Leonardo da Vinci - Kathleen Krull [8]
It was a nasty turn of events. Leonardo and his three companions had to appear in a court of justice. They may have been imprisoned in a cell overnight or longer. Torture and other incentives were commonly used to get people to confess. But the four men didn’t; they declared their innocence. Still, for some reason, another hearing was called.
Leonardo must have been frightened. Normally, parents would help out in such a crisis. But Leonardo probably dreaded his father’s reaction to this particular charge. Piero, whose notary business was thriving, needed to maintain his respectability. Artists and intellectuals may have been more tolerant of homosexuality, but not the average citizen. Possibly, Leonardo feared a showdown between his father and himself, or considered arrest equal to failure in his father’s eyes.
The anxiety and uncertainty lasted for over two months, through a second hearing—and then a third. In the end, the Office of the Night dismissed the charges. There were no signed statements from wit nesses, nor apparently any firm evidence. It’s possible Leonardo was simply a bystander in a plot to make trouble for the Medici.
Even though he escaped punishment, the artist was left bruised. The public embarrassment alone would have pained an intensely private person like Leonardo. And this particular case probably attracted greater publicity because of the Medici connection.
Historians disagree about Leonardo’s sex life, or whether he even had one. But most think he was probably homosexual. He left no record of any relationship with a woman, not even a friendship. Various writings show he shared the common male attitude of his time: women were less intelligent than men and full of “useless chatter.” He described the act of procreation as “repulsive.”
Homosexuality was illegal. Other cities prosecuted vigorously, but the authorities in Florence generally fostered a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy. In fact, homosexuality there was so widespread that the German word for homosexual at the time was Florenzer. But being discreet was crucial. The scandal of an investigation and conviction could ruin one’s reputation. And career.
For the rest of his life, Leonardo would feel persecuted, whether or not he had reason to. He despised being the subject of gossip. As to the idea of prison, he declared, “It is better to die than to lose one’s freedom.” Two of his very first designs were for devices to escape from a locked cell.
After the humiliating arrest, he structured his life so that he was free to be himself, isolated as much as possible from nosy neighbors. Was it then that his mistrust of and disdain for other people began? “How many people there are,” he once wrote, “who could be described as mere channels for food,” producing “nothing but full privies,” or toilets.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Lying on a Feather Mattress”
IT MAY SEEM that Leonardo was taking he slow route to becoming a scientist. Investigating the natural world, that took time and earned him no money. As much as he dreaded what he called being a “slave” for money, he did need it. So his investigations into scientific subjects were, for the time being, hobbies.
Over the next several years, he buried himself in his work, attempting to strike out on his own as an independent master. He had his own studio and lived alone, but visited Verrocchio often. He probably had pets—he loved animals.
He was known around Florence as the young star artist from Verrocchio’s studio, a strikingly attractive man who seemed good at . . . everything. He was funny and intelligent, capable of discussing any topic. He had a fine singing voice and was considered the best impro viser in verse of his time—a sort of Renaissance rap artist. He was even good at sports, known for great strength, particularly as an excellent horseman.
But Leonardo did have flaws.
For someone with no other means of support, he was careless about business dealings. When he finally got commissions to do work, sometimes he followed through—and sometimes he didn’t. With his first solo commission, in 1478,