Chapter Eighty-Eight: Life of a Pope

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25th of September 1535 - Vatican City, Rome

Sitting slouched in his chair, Pope Clement VII stared blankly ahead of him with eyes unseeing as he thought about his life and how it had all come to this. 

He had been the bastard son of a second son, never expected to raise to much and had been raised by his uncle alongside his cousins treated no different than Lorenzo's own children. 

He had never known his father, who had been murdered in cold blood one month exact before he had been born and had lost his mother soon after before he was raised by his godfather Antonio da Sangallo. 

Clement had been educated by humanists lie Angelo Poliziano and alongside prodigies like Michelangelo; he was an accomplished musician if he did say so himself. 

However, he'd always had a natural inclination towards the clergy even if at first his illegitimacy barred him from high-ranking positions within the church. 

It had been his uncle that had helped him carve out a career as a soldier, he had been enrolled in the Knights of Rhodes but he had also become Grand Prior of Capua. 

A coughing fit disrupted his thoughts and Clement hunched forward, covering his mouth with a handkerchief to stop anything from spilling from his mouth. 

He wiped away the spittle that hung from the corners of his mouth, he'd had stomach problems for as long as he could remember and a fever that just would not shift. 

It felt like he had been ill forever and he was aging faster than was normal, every time he dared look at himself in the mirror, he seemed to be older again. 

His skin had turned yellow and he had lost the sight in one of his eyes while the other was following close behind but there seemed nothing that the doctors could do for him. 

Once the coughing fit had abated, Clement sat back in his chair allowing his mind to drift back to his ponderings of the life that he had led. 

He had studied canon law at the University of Pisa and had accompanied Giovanni to the conclave of 1492 where they had watched Pope Alexander VI be elected. 

He recalled the fond adventures that he'd had with Giovanni after their family had been expelled from Florence after the misfortunes of Piero.

They had been arrested twice during their travels, (first in Ulm, Germany, and later in Rouen, France) and each time they were arrested, it had been Piero that had bailed them out. 

It wasn't until several years later that he and Giovanni had returned to Italy and concentrated on their efforts to re-establish their family in Florence. 

One such effort had seen them align themselves with Louise of Savoy, marrying Giuliano de' Medici to her younger sister; a union that had produced one living adult child. 

Clement squeezed his eyes shut when he thought about Clarice, named for the woman that had been a mother to him when he had none; he had wondered through the years if he would ever see her again. 

Clarice was married now from what he heard, a mother to three children if the stories were to be believed and Clement wondered if she ever thought of him after she had turned her back on his plan. 

He could see how wrong he had been now to send Clarice to England like that, to demand that she degrade herself in such a way to become a King's mistress. 

Perhaps if he had thought things through better then he could have foreseen that his actions would cost him greatly. 

A lump formed in Clement's throat, his mind daring to think back to the woman that could have ever held his heart; Simonetta da Collevecchio. 

She had been a lady of Alfonsina's that had worked in the Medici family's Rome estate, it had been a night that had haunted Clement for all his years and one that he had never forgotten. 

Not least of all because it had produced his son, who he had allowed Piero's son Lorenzo to claim as his own and raise as his son. 

While Simonetta had been married off to a groom that worked for the family, in an attempt to conceal what had taken place and not to interrupt his own climb within the church. 

It had been for the best in Clement's mind, especially as he was determined to remain at Giovanni's side especially when his cousin became Pope Leo X and bestowed upon him great title such as Archbishop of Florence.

There had also been a papal dispensation that declared him legitimate which allowed him to climb even higher with the Holy Church, places and positions that had previously been closed to him now opened up to him like never before. 

He had been officially appointed Vice-Chancellor of the Church by Giovanni, he had focused his duties on administering Church affairs in Florence and conducting international relations. 

Clement had been named Cardinal Protector of England and France, he had worked to free Italy and the Church from French and Imperial domination and it had become even more essentially when the personal rival between King Francis and the Holy Roman Emperor boiled over into war in northern Italy. 

He'd led numerous armed conflicts as a cardinal, leading some to muse that he was better suited to arms rather than the priesthood and he had served as papal legate to the army in a campaign against King Francis alongside Leonardo da Vinci. 

Of course, there had been other endeavours on behalf of Pope Leo X that had been just as successful, such that he was often credited as the prime mover of papal policy throughout Giovanni's pontificate. 

It had been him that had governed Florence after the death of Lorenzo II, he had done all he could in that regard and ensure that any potential Medici heirs were raised in a way that he had been. 

Piero, Giuliano, and Giovanni had been like brothers to him and they had left behind families that needed guidance; they left behind children who needed to learn the importance of the family that they had been born into. 

It had taken him two attempts after Giovanni had died to become Pope himself, the Medici overcoming the opposition of the French King to finally succeed in becoming the Pope. 

He had brought to the papal throne a high reputation for political ability and possessed all he accomplishments of a wily diplomat. 

He had sent the Archbishop of Capua to the Kings of France, Spain, and England in order to bring the Italian war to an end.

He had been generous to his Medici relatives, he would admit that it had caused problems for the Vatican treasuries; he had gifted positions, lands, titles and money to those who he believed deserved such things. 

It had been from there that seemed to go wrong, Rome had been sacked by Imperial forces after his wavering politics had caused the rise of the Imperial party inside the Curia. 

The starving troops, unpaid and left without a guide felt free to ravage Rome and there had been many incidents of murder, rape, and vandalism that ended the splendours of the Renaissance. 

He had been kept prisoner in Castel Sant'Angelo for six months even after the giving in to the demands that had been made of him; he had paid the ransom to save his own life and cession of several lands to the empire. 

Clement had only escaped after he had bought off some Imperial officers, he disguised as a peddler and took shelter in Orvieto and Viterbo before he returned to a depopulated and devastated Rome. 

It took nearly a year before he regained what had been lost and the Medici were restored to power in Florence, where after an eleven-month siege Clement had installed Alessandro as Duke of Florence. 

It had been from there that his issues with Ippolito had started, the son of Giuliano had been furious when he had learned that he had been overlooked for such a title. 

Clement had tried to appease him by making Ippolito, a Cardinal but the young man had never been won over by the titles and money that Clement offered him in an attempt to distract him from what he had done. 

There was no doubt in Clement's mind that if he had handed the title to Ippolito then perhaps his life would be different now, perhaps he should not have favoured his son especially given the poor leadership that Alessandro had shown. 

Then there was that entire mess with King Henry, he wished now that he could go back and side in the man's favour; he would have saved himself such embarrassment especially when it was revealed that Catherine of Aragon was a liar. 

His imprisonment had only complicated things and Clement knew that no one had thought him competent enough to do anything after he had been disgraced as he had been. 

Catherine had been his highest hope for redemption, he had married her to a French Prince in hopes of improving his own status especially after he was seen as nothing more than the Emperor's puppet. 

He had hoped that by marrying Catherine to a French prince and Alessandro to the daughter of the Emperor would be the turning point that the Medici needed.

However, even that seemed to blow up in his face and even after nearly two years of marriage there was still no sign of Catherine giving her husband an heir. 

Perhaps if he had been cleverer, he could have made a better match for Clarice and had her marry the Duke of Orleans instead especially since she had already been a French Duchess in her own right. 

Henri would have likely been charmed by an older bride and Clarice had proven that she was certainly capable of producing children, she had two daughters and a son by the Boleyn whore's brother. 

Another coughing fit racked his body and Clement did what he could to cover his mouth, a horrible wheezing sound escaped him as he clutched at his chest that hurt every time that he coughed. 

It took minutes for the coughing attack to disappear and Clement struggled to catch his breath as he slumped into his chair. 

His breathing was wheezing as he took several deep breathes, his eyes dazed and even with his failing vision he knew that his handkerchief had a dark liquid on it that he did not want to put a name to. 

Instead, he allowed his mind to wander as he considered his last few years; little could be done to right the wrongs of the past and he knew that this reign would be remembered for all the wrong reasons. 

He had done his best, he truly believed that he had been doing the right thing and of course, there would be things that he would change if he could but alas, he could not change. 

The news that Ippolito was now Duke of Florence seemed to set right the wrongs that he had committed, Clement could only hope that Ippolito would be kind to the children of Alessandro; they were his grandchildren and did not deserve to be punished for something that their grandfather and father had done. 

It had pleased him when Alessandro had named his boy for him, little Giulio was barely two years old and Giulia was barely two months old now having been born just days after the death of her father. 

Clement sent funds to their mother to secure them, he had done what he could especially in the face of the Alliance that had risen up and now made it's way through Italy. 

There seemed no stopping it, not even the forces that the Emperor had left to secure his lands in Italy had been enough to stop the armies as they first took Milan, then Florence.

A gargling sound rattled in Clement's throat and he knew his time was growing short, he hoped the next Pope would have the strength to do what he could not and fix this mess that he was leaving behind. 

His body had betrayed him greatly in the last couple of years and his trip to France to see Catherine wed was the last time that he had travelled from there it all seemed like an uphill battle to do anything. 

Perhaps in another life, he would have married Simonetta and they would have raised their son together and had many more children; it had aggrieved him when he had learned that she had passed away last year. 

At least she had lived to see their son rise so high rather than the recent events that Clement dared not allow himself to dwell on at this time. 

His heart constricted in his chest at the mere thought and he had wept for days when the news had been brought to him that Alessandro had been slain. 

His beloved son was dead, Alessandro had been murdered and left his two children fatherless along with a young wife who was now a hostage waiting the Emperor to pay for her release. 

He allowed himself to think of the life that he might have had, had he not felt a calling for the church; the life where he had simply been Giulio de' Medici and he had been contented to such a life. 

The choices that he would have made, the lives that would have been saved and the family that he would have grown old surrounded by and watched his children and grandchildren secure the Medici future. 

Everything that Clement had ever done was for his family, to further the Medici name and bring it to heights that he could never have imagined. 

He had lived fifty-seven years and four months, he had reigned eleven years, ten months, and seven days; it didn't seem long enough, he still had so much left to do and he did not want to leave this world yet. 

Pushing himself to his feet, staggering forward on unsteady feet for a couple of steps before his legs gave way and he crashed to the floor dragging down the table that he had tried to catch himself on. 

There upon the tiled floor of his chambers, Giulio de' Medici breathed his last breath and left the world behind; the sun setting over his body as the world moved on from his reign as Pope.


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