Alessandro De Medeci



Despite the many portraits of this 16th century Italian Renaissance figure, his African heritage is rarely, if ever, mentioned.

 For more on this omission as it has occurred in the art world, read this January 2005 update :

'' A View On Race & The Art World ''


A cameo of Alessandro de' Medici
by Domenico di Polo.

In a current exhibition on Italian Renaissance art that is on display at the Philadelphia Museum until Feb. 13, 2005, a focal work is a portrait of Alessandro de' Medici. Unfortunately, however, the unique opportunity that this small, but important show might have offered to the national conversation on race has been ignored.

Down through the centuries, most scholars have accepted that Alessandro de' Medici's mother was a slave woman and she was so identified by Alessandro's contemporaries. But the subject of the African ancestry of Alessandro, the first Duke of Florence, is being downplayed by the curators of the Philadelphia exhibit, entitled "Pontormo, Bronzino and the Medici."

Due to a kind of snobbery endemic to the field - a subject which Phillipe de Montebello at the Met in New York so unabashedly has talked about - it is not just the Philadelphia Museum but the American art establishment in general that appears to be having difficulty coming to terms with this Medici scion from whom descends some of Europe's most titled families, including two branches of the Hapsburgs.

In just the last three years, for example, a portrait of Alessandro's daughter, Giulia, Princess of Ottojano, and another portrait of the Duke himself have appeared in two major exhibitions in the U.S.: one at the National Gallery in Washington in 2001 and another at the Art Institute of Chicago in an exhibit which a few months later travelled to the Detroit Institute of the Arts where it closed in 2003. However, as with the current Philadelphia exhibit, little was done by the curators of these shows to draw the public's attention to either the Duke's color or his place in history.

In the only reference to the Duke's color in the entire 173-page catalogue of the Philadelphia exhibit, Karl Strehlke, the curator and organizer writes, "Some scholars have claimed that Alessandro's mother was a North African slave. This cannot be confirmed, however, and the text of a letter that she wrote to her son in 1529 suggests that she was an Italian peasant from Lazio." Such a statement can only be described as disingenuous.

Based on what Lorenzino de' Medici, Alessandro's kinsman, wrote about her in his Aplogoia, all scholars who have dealt with the subject accept that the servant whom he cites as the Duke's mother, is one and the same Simunetta from Collavecchio in the province of Lazio. Besides her being specifically identified as a "slave" by the historians Bernardo Segni and Giovanni Cambi, both contemporaries of the Duke's, Cardinal Salviati, a relation of Alessandro's, describes this woman as "una villisima schiava." And, in point of fact, the question of identity that Lorenzino de' Medici does raise, and Segni repeats, is not whether Simunetta was Alessandro's mother, but whether the "mule driver" she subsequently married was Alessandro's father instead of one or the other of two candidates still attributed with his paternity.

As Christopher Hare in his work, Romance of a Medici Warrior, explains, "[Alessandro] was reported to be the son of the late Lorenzo dei Medici, Duke of Urbino, but the affection shown him by Clement VII, gave strength to the general opinion that the Pope was his father. In any case his mother was a mulatto slave, and Alessandro had the dark skin, thick lips and curly hair of a Negro."

Like Hare, one need only to browse through the images of the Duke published in Carla Langedijk's two-volume work, Portraits of the Medici, to verify contemporary descriptions of his apearance such as Ceccherelli's "capelli ricci neri e bruno in vise," (brown in complexion with very curly black hair) or Scipione Ammirato's "color bruno, labbri grossi e capegli crespi." (brown, thick lips and kinky hair.)

Girogio Vasari's full length portrait of Alessandro de' Medici from the frescos in the Palazzo Vecchio.
Granted, the majority of paintings, coins, medallions, etc. depicting Alessandro de' Medici were done after his assassination in 1537. However, they were the work of artists who had known him personally. The African traits of the Duke that appear in Giorgio Vasari's frescos in the Palazzo Vecchio, for example, are just as pronounced as in the more familiar image attributed to the school of Bronzino. Furthermore, in Vasari's own description of the work he did for this commission, the accuracy of the innumerable portraits he executed and the public's ability to identify them, especially after their demise, was the source of a great deal of pride for him.

Girogio Vasari's full length portrait of Alessandro de'
Medici from the frescos in the Palazzo Vecchio.

But what could be more decisive proof of Alessandro's African ancestry than the following taken from Scipione Ammirato, the court historian of Alessandro de' Medici's successor, Cosimo:

"Non sono per tacere l'opinione,che in quel eta ando attorno intorno la nascita di Alessandro, la qual fu, che egli fusse nato d' una schiava in quel tempo, che il padre e i zij rientrarono in Firenze. Il che peravventura pote procedere per esser egli stato di color bruno, e per aver avuto i labbri grossi, e i capegli crespi."

What makes the omission of Alessandro's race in the current Philadelphia exhibition problematic, especially after criticism by the Washington Post and the New York Times for the similar omission in the National Gallery's exhibition, is the fact that besides being the first black head of state in modern western history, Alessandro de' Medici's race was quite pivotal to the Grand Ducal and the most politically powerful period of Medici history.

Pope Clement VII, Alessandro's father, who also was born illegitimate, obviously felt that his illegitimate son would need every political bootstrap he could obtain for him if Alessandro were to survive as the legal representative of the family. Hence the bargain Clement struck with the Emperor Charles V in 1529 to have Alessandro created Duke of Florence even though the family had assiduously avoided such honorifics so as not to appear insensitive to the republican aspirations of the population.

Considering not only the racial problems America is still struggling with but also the high proportion of African Americans in Philadelphia, the curators' treatment of the subject of Alessandro's African slave mother is troubling. All the more so considering how important a role the de' Medici have played in European history and culture and the implications this holds for undermining the racial preconceptions that people of color must still contend with today.

Moreover, it seems to me that in addition to the elitism of the rarified world of the art connoisseur, the old bugaboo of political correctness is also to blame. For those who push the victimization paradigm of the African American experience, there can be no room in the discourse on race for "narratives" that do not fit the stereotype.

But such a stance is misguided. A study of this particular branch of the Medici family would provide us with a unique and invaluable insight into how one of the most powerful and influential dynasties in Europe was forced to deal with the issue of race so early in the history of the African slave trade.


Alessandro wielded great power as the first duke of Florence. He was the patron of some of the leading artists of the era and is one of the two Medici princes whose remains are buried in the famous tomb by Michaelangelo. The ethnic make up of this Medici Prince makes him the first black head of state in the modern western world.


Alessandro was born in 1510 to a black serving woman in the Medici household who, after her subsequent marriage to a muleteer, is simply referred to in existing documents as Simonetta da Collavechio. Historians today are convinced that Alessandro was fathered by the seventeen year old Cardinal Giulio de Medici who later became Pope Clement VII. Cardinal Giulio was the nephew of Lorenzo the Magnificent.


On being elected Pope in 1523, Cardinal Giulio was forced to relinquish the lordship of Florence but he appointed a regent for his thirteen year old son Alessandro who had just been created Duke of Penna, and a nephew, Ipollito. Even though both were bastards, they were the last of what has come to be referred to as the elder line of the family.



Republicanism had grown in Florence under the regent and when Emperor Charles V sacked Rome in 1527, the Florentines took advantage of the situation to install a more democratic form of government and both Alessandro and Ipollito fled. When peace was finally made two years later between the Papal and the Imperial factions, Charles V agreed to militarily restore Florence to the Medici. After a siege of eleven months Alessandro was finally brought back as the Emperor's designated head of state.



In 1532, the new Florentine constitution declared Alessandro hereditary Duke and perpetual gonfalonier of the republic. Though his common sense and his feeling for justice won his subjects' affection, those in sympathy with the exiled opposition hated Alessandro and accused him of using his power to sexually exploit the citizenry. However, only two illegitimate children with the possibility of a third, have been attributed to him and even these he fathered with one woman, Taddea Malespina, a distant cousin of his.



With the death of his father, the Pope, in 1534, the exiles attempted to oust the Duke Alessandro from Florence. But the Emperor decided to uphold Alessandro and in an obvious show of support, gave Alessandro his own illegitimate daughter, Margaret of Austria, as wife.



Despite the security this kind of support should have given him, Alessandro was finally assassinated a few months after his wedding by Lorenzaccio de Medici, a distant cousin who had ingratiated himself in order to win his confidence. According to the declaration he later published, Lorenzaccio claimed that he had executed Alessandro for the sake of the republic and that he had been able to disarm him of his personal bodyguards by setting up a sexual liaison for him as a trap. When the anti-Medici faction failed to use this occasion to overthrow the ducal government, Lorenzaccio fled in dismay. He was himself eventually murdered some twelve years later.



'' A Medici ''Impressa'' or Emblem ''



In one of the Medici palaces in Rome - the Villa Madama - there is an image of a cherub in a Renaissance frieze which, considering how it pertains to what we are discussing on this web site, could prove something of a talisman for those of us of mixed racial backgrounds.

Although approximately four foot square, the section with the cherub can easily be overlooked because it's part of a frieze positioned high above the floor and is one in a series of figures - dancing girls, animals, and cherubs - in the garland-festooned mural.The freize is assumed to be the work of either Giulio Romano or his assistant, Giovane da Udine, or both, and to have been painted somewhere between 1521-6.

With ribbons tying the garlands together around their necks, ten almost provocatively nubile female angels dressed in white classical tunicae serve as anchors. Frolicking in the flower and fruit laden boughs of greenery are four times as many putti or cherubs, two on either side of each angel. What first catches the attention of the observer, however, is that unlike the rest of the putti who are all depicted nude, there is one who is fully dressed. Not only is he wearing a tunic, it is obvious that he is wearing either pants or leggings. Far more arresting than his dress, however, is the fact that this putto happens to be a little black African.

Besides the rarity of such a black figure, what makes it historically significant is its location. Although named after 'Madama' Margaret of Austria (the illegitimate daughter of the Hapbsburg Emperor Charles V) who owned the villa from 1537 until her death in 1586, this magnificent building was actually built by Cardinal Giulio de Medici who became Pope Clement VII. Giulio de Medici presented the villa to Madama Margarita as part of her marriage to Alessandro de Medici. Although officially passed off as a nephew of Pope Clement VII, Alessandro was in fact the Pope's bastard.

Pope Clement had persuaded Emperor Charles V to make Allesandro the first Duke of Florence and, in obtaining Margarita's hand for him, Pope Clement hoped to insure Imperial protection for his son against factions hostile to the Medici and their autocratic control of the city.

Although not generally known, it is a well-established fact among scholars that Duke Alessandro was a person of colour. Even the name of his African mother, Simonetta da Collavechio, has been known to researchers for well over a century. Born in 1510, Alessandro de Medici was anywhere between eleven and nineteen when the detail of the frieze discussed here was painted. The rabbit with which the African cherub or puttino moro is playing is symbolically associated with propagation. This little vignette, therefore, is first and foremost an allusion to Alessandro as his father's only hope for future progeny. But considering who Allesandro was given as his wife, there is the tantalizing possibility that it is also meant to commemorate the marriage of this papal bastard to an imperial one. The significance of what the little black putto is wearing strongly suggests that this could well be the case.

For example, there are the pants or leggings showing beneath the hem of the black cherub's costume. Such leggings are seldom seen either in this style or period of painting. In any Latin dictionary, the word for legging, ocrea-ae, immediately precedes that of Ocresia-ae, which--according to the latest Oxford edition--is the name of the slave who was the mother of Servius Tullius, the sixth king of Rome. It could be argued that this similarity of the word ocrea-ae to that of Ocresia-ae is merely coincidental. However, like Servius Tullius, whose given name is a reminder of his "servile" origins, Alessandro was both the son of a slave and a future head of state, as well. It would seem therefore, that the parallel between these two was quite intentional especially since Servius Tullius, according to Roman mythology, had been the most ideal and just of the Roman rulers before the historical age of the Caesars. (Interestingly, despite the difficulty Florentine republicans faced in accepting Alessandro's reinstitution of Medici hegemony, they grudgingly acknowledged his sense of justice and his treatment of the poor and the underprivileged - the same moral values for which Servius had stood)

However, that reference to Servius Tullius is only viable if this little cherub was painted after the betrothal of the Emperor's daughter to the Pope's son. Any allusion in this mural to Allesandro's symbolic representation as a Roman ruler before this marriage agreement - signed in 1529 - would not have made sense.

As the son-in-law of the Holy Roman Emperor there was a distinct possibility that Alessandro de Medici could indeed ascend to such an august honor. Although the title Holy Roman Emperor was an electoral one (and the candidates, in principle, were any number of European crowned heads) the title in fact had become a Hapbsburg prerogative. Considering the low life expectancy and high child mortality of the period, the fact that Alessandro could, conceivably, succeed one day as ruler of Emperor Charles' Hapbsburg possessions must certainly have played a part in the Pope's proposal to marry his Allesandro to Margaret. On the other hand, the Emperor himself had just been married a few years earlier and the only son he would ever have was still an infant. Thus, it is quite possible that Charles saw in this matrimonial alliance an opportunity for insuring himself a dynasty should his legal heir not survive to do so. What would further tighten this allegory so carefully constructed around the word ocrea-ae, is that very similar to this aspiration of the Pope for his son it represents, Servius Tullius had been designated successor to the King of Rome at his own betrothal to the reigning monarch's daughter. Such visual charades and puns as in this interpretation of the little black putto's leggings were fairly popular during the Renaissance. We need look no further than the popular Medici "impressa" of the falcon holding a diamond ring in one of its talons as an example of how they might be put together just on the phonetic similarity of the words chosen . The motto for this particular emblem of a Falcon e diamante was Fa con Dio Amante which, translated from the Italian reads, Do all for the love of God.

So, if this play between the leggings of the cherub and Servius Tullius is acceptable, the rest of the symbolism regarding the African putto's costume falls easily into place.

In contrast to the stark nudity of the other putti, the obvious similarity of the cherub's tunic to that of the female angels, strongly suggests that an inference to cross-dressing is being made. The most famous of the classical stories relating to cross-dressing is, of course, that of Hercules and Omphale.

According to the myth, Hercules had been required to serve Queen Omphale in expiation for a murder he had committed. A lonely widow and the powerful ruler of Lydia , Omphale fell in love with him at first sight - and he with her. Far more memorable than any of the adventures Hercules undertook to rid his lover's kingdom of its enemies, are the stories told of how he wore Omphale's clothes and spun wool along with the women of the household. Just as strangely, Omphale went about in his famous lion skin and took to brandishing his massive club.


The implication that Alessandro, like Hercules, was to wrap himself in his wife Maragaret's Hapsburg identity is quite unavoidable since there can be no doubt that to maintain the patronage of his father-in-law, his politics as Duke of Florence would be dictated by Imperial interests.

Likewise, the club and lion skin Omphale appropriates from Hercules in the myth would seem to be a very definite allusion to the Emperor's expectations for his daughter. Having given her to his rather formidable aunt, Margaret of Austria, to be reared and educated, he obviously intended that she would one day play as important a role in the government of the Empire. Not only had Charles named Margaret after his aunt but the position the elder woman held as Regent and Governor General of the Netherlands would eventually become his daughter's. Because this much authority had, until this point in time, been pretty much a male prerogative, both Margarets are today studied since they are among the first women in modern history to have exercised this much political power and influence.

Because it is far more striking than even the little black cherub, what is unmistakably another important clue to this rather intriguing picture puzzle is the fact that one of the female angels has two heads. As utterly bizarre as this figure might initially strike us today, original viewers would have immediately identified it as a reference to the double headed eagle of the Imperial coat of arms. But besides confirming those assumptions regarding the Hapbsburgs already made, there is another phonetic similarity between words being exploited here. Like what was done with the latin word for legging, it is the resemblance of the name, Omphale to that of Omphalos.

According to one of the earliest Greek myths, the center (omphalos) of the earth was determined when two eagles, made to fly in opposite directions, finally met again. Quite obviously this myth is the source for the Hapbsburg arms and, as such, the choice of the character, Omphale (whose name is derived form the same Greek root) to represent the emperor's daughter is a particularly pointed one. And, of course, there's a corollary. Alessandro's African heritage - as represented in the little black cherub - is the same symbolism accorded the sable plumage of the Imperial Eagle.

Because of how many layers of meaning these symbols can have, it is quite possible that even the rabbit which we first dealt with as representative of progeny might have another meaning. The name for Spain is derived from the Berber word, "spania" which means "land of rabbits" and which the North Africans gave to the Iberian peninsula because of how many of these animals they found there. As the grandson of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castile and Leon, Charles goes down in history as the first king of a united Spain. Since procreational success was thought to be primarily the responsibility of the woman, it appears that some sort of allusion is being made between the hope for Margaret's fruitfulness and the Spanish identity of the children she would bear Alessandro.

There is one other piece of symbolism in this mural that should be pointed out - the figure of the ostrich painted on the ceiling directly over that of the African cherub or putto. Scholars have observed that the ostrich was used exclusively by Giulio de Medici (Pope Clement). Counter to the tales that it ate iron and all the hyperbole that could be based on that myth, there is a far more sober reading to this emblem. Symbolic dictionaries explain that because it has wings but does not fly, the ostrich is a representation of the hypocrite, especially the kind who preaches an ideal but does not live up to it. What would make it appear that the bird is to be seen as a penitential apologia for the Pope's bastard, Alessandro, is a figure in the mural on the opposite wall. One of the young female angels is decidedly of mixed race. As in the case of the little black putto, the only other ostrich on the ceiling is positioned directly over her figure.

Despite how tightly the pieces of this particular puzzle would seem to fit, there is, of course, another reading, at least with regards to the chronology of how it was painted. Quite possibly, like his playmates, the black putto was originally depicted nudo. It was not until after June 29th, 1529 when the Pope Clement VII and Charles V signed the Treaty of Barcelona that the little fellow was dressed in the items of clothing we've looked at here. Simple enough at first glance, they are in fact symbolically packed, not just with the Pope's bald ambition for his son so arcanely or obliquely implied but with the kind of moral imperative he points out to him, as well.

Whether or not the city of Barcelona, itself, is also alluded to in all that has been discussed in the above still has to be determined. But it would be difficult to simply dismiss as mere coincidence, the tradition that it had been "founded by Hercules and built up by the Punic (African) people." Because Barcelona is where the treaty was drawn up, it is even possible that the part-mythic historic account of the origins of this great Spanish metropolis might have been the initial source for the design of this rather remarkable impressa.

Alessandro de Medici and Margaret of Austria produced no offspring together. He was assassinated some three years after their marriage. But his stint as ruler of Florence was enough for his children, although illegitimate like himself, to establish dynasties of their own. Today the most influential of the old Italian noble families descend from him as well as some of the most prestigious continental houses including a number of European crowned heads and, interestingly enough, a branch of the imperial Hapbsburgs, as well.

Hopefully, for the eternal peace of his soul, the injunction by the papal founder of this line of Medicis to his son was in turn followed by Alessandro's own numerous and 'illustrious' descendants. Only the just and moral exercise of the power they would inherit could serve as reparation for the sin of the flesh Pope Clement (Giulio de Medici) had committed while still a seventeen-year-old cardinal.




Allessandro's Children:



Although the initial reaction to the assassination on the part of the Ducal party had been to set up a regency for Alessandro's four year-old son, Giulio, they instead turned to Cosimo of the cadet branch of the family who as young man of seventeen they felt would be able to bring some equilibrium to the political instability that confronted them.



Since they were his cousins and since Cosimo had to consolidate the authority of the Medici family, Cosimo raised Alessandro's children in his own household and continued as their guardian until adulthood. Despite the awkward presence at his court of a potential pretender to the duchy of Florence, Cosimo apparently regarded his young wards with true affection.



Giulio married Lucrezia Gaetani in 1561 and a year later, Cosimo appointed him First Admiral of the Knights of San Stephano, an order especially founded to fight the Turks.




Giulio's sister, Giulia, was first married to Francesco Cantelmo, the Count of Alvito and the Duke of Popoli. When her husband died unable to give her children a few years later, Cosimo then married Giulia off in 1559 to a first cousin of his, Bernardino de Medici. Apparently Giulia's pride in her Medici ancestry was intense. In the early years of her second marriage, her insistence that she be treated at court as the equal of Cosimo's wife caused a rift between herself and Cosimo. Eventually she and her husband moved to Naples where, at an enormous expense to themselves, they acquired both the title and lands of the principality of Ottaiano.


 more on Giulia and "Giulia's Portrait."

Along with her father Alessandro de Medici's uniquely racial place in history, Giulia de Medici's portrait could also prove of some importance since an apologia for her blackness forms the basis of the iconographical elements of the painting. Due more than likely to Giulia de Medici's social position as a princess and the descendant of a number of popes, whoever assisted the artist with the symbolism he used obtained it from the Neo platonic concept of God as Divine Darkness still current in the theology of the time. Probably the most readily available exposition of this particularly Franciscan brand of mysticism was St. Bonaventure's Itenarium mentis in Deum orThe Soul's Journey to God. To fully appreciate the symbolism that was attempted in this portrait it should be pointed out that the Medici were in religious state matters, officially devoted to St. Francis.

Behind Giulia on her left can be seen an ornately carved chair of state. In an 1982 article, Gabrielle Langdon, a Canadian art scholar, pointed out the artist had used the incline of the armrest to depict upwardly sloping terrain. She explained that the climbing figure she was able to discern with the help of x-ray equipment, had been meant as the spiritual aspect of the comparatively larger sleeping figure, which is a representation of Hercules. Professor Langdon maintains the scene is an allusion to the Choice of Hercules, a popular Renaissance allegory illustrating the hero on the upward path to Virtue as he disdains the attraction of Vice.

Returning to a more overtly Christian reading, it would also appear that a mountain, Monte la Verna, is in fact, also being alluded to. This geographical spot, after all, is precisely where St. Bonaventure received the inspiration to write his Itenerarium. The reason for the Saint's visit to Monte la Verna was that this was where St. Francis, during a vision of a crucified six-winged Seraph, had become a stigmatic by miraculously acquiring the wounds of Christ.

From the anecdotes regarding Alessandro's blackness and how opposition political factions tried throwing it in his face, the epithet that apparently most upset him was da Collavechio. Since moro would not have been as insulting back in the 16th century before the Battle of Lepanto, the fact that his mother, Simonetta, had subsequently married a mule driver from Collavechio was, instead, used to great advantage by his enemies who would taunt him as Alessandro da Collavechio. I do not think, therefore, that it would be reaching too far to suggest that some kind of parallelism is to be understood between colla vechio or the old hill and Monte la Verna or the Mount of Spring or New Mount. Is Giulia not pointing to the theological speculation of God as Divine Darkness or Blackness associated with the latter Monte as some kind of justification or defense of the ethnic definition of her grandmother so inextricably tied to the former hill? I would be surprised if she isn't.

The six wings of the seraph became for St. Bonaventure, the six stages of the journey through which the soul must progress. To the Renaissance mentality so infatuated with Greco Roman imagery, the cameo of Mercury who also has six wings: two on his heels, the two of his caduceus or staff and the pair on his helmet is, therefore, a classical reference to the Seraph of St. Francis. Dr. Langdon's supposition that the medal of Bacchus Giulia so instructively point to is a Neo platonic allusion is not only accurate, it is the key to understanding the iconographical program around which this portrait was painted. The patristic source of St. Bonaventure's ideas is none other than Dionysius the Aereopagite. Dionysius, considering Giulia's African ancestry, is extremely important since he is one of the earliest of the Church's teachers to describe God as the...Ineffable and Divine Darkness. Since Bacchus is simply the Roman version of the Greek Dionysius, the medallion is obviously meant to remind the viewer of the beatific vision which is the goal, the very objective of every soul as explained in St. Bonaventure's "Itenerarium."

In summary, this painting offers a surprising theological way of thinking about blackness (just as more Aristotelian references to God have reinforced archetypes of whiteness since the Age of Enlightenment.) As one of the first persons of colour in modern history whose response to racism has been recorded, Giulia de Medici's magisterial pronouncement is of utmost importance to those of us in the new world who are still suffering from the results of this ugly social phenomenon. Furthermore, because of Giulia de Medici's relation to the centers of temporal and spiritual power at the time, the defense she prepared for herself was the most authoritative. She employed a Neo platonic premise which is canonically irreproachable even by those standards which are adhered to by the most conservative curriculum advisers today. Furthermore, whatever interest is triggered by the theological mysticism that informs this painting, it should not create the kind of academic controversy more Afro Centric ideas tend to provoke. For like St. Bonaventure's "Itenerarium" which is the key to this particular painting by Allori, there are centuries of western religious speculation that evolved precisely along these lines.

This portrait of Giulia de Medici could easily become in the field of Black Studies, a very significant work. Instead of being simply a portrait of an Italian princess whose identity as a quadroon is interesting, it shows her breathtaking reaction to whatever apprehensions she might have felt regarding her African descent With whatever theological authority she can claim, she reminds her contemporaries that God, in His Ineffable Unknowability, is also Black.




The greater majority of the noble houses of Italy can today trace their ancestry back to Alessandro de Medici. And, as shown in the two lines of descent to the Hapsburgs drawn up below, so can a number of other princely families of Europe:





Giulio de Medici, (Allessandro's son) Knight Commander of the Gallery of St.
                   Stephen m. Lucrezia, Countess Gaetani
                                                 !                
Cosimo de Medici (illegitimate) m. Lucrezia (II), Countess Gaetani
                                                 !
Angelica de Medici m. Gianpetro, Count Altemps
                                                 !
Maria Cristina, Countess Altemps m. 1646 Ipollito, Duke Lante della Rovere
                                                 !
Antonio, Duke Lante m. 1682 Angelique, Princesse de La Tremouille
                                                 !
Marie Anne Lante m. Jean Baptiste, Duke of Croy Havre
                                                 !
Louis, Duke of Croy Havre m. 1736 Marie Louise, Princess of Montmorency Luxembourg
                                                 !
Joseph, Duke of Croy Havre m. 1762 Adelaide, Princess of Croy Solre
                                                 !
Adelaide, Duchess of Croy Havre m. 1788 Emanuel, Prince of Croy Solre
                                                 !
Constance, Princess of Croy Solre m. 1810 Ferdinand, Duke of Croy
                                                 !
Augusta, Duchess of Croy m. 1836 Alfred, Prince of Salm Salm
                                                 !
Alfred, Prince of Salm Salm m. 1869 Rosa, Countess Lutzow
                                                 !
Emanuel, Prince of Salm Salm m. 1902 Christina von Hapsburg, Archduchess of Austria
                                                 !
Rosemary, Princess of Salm Salm m. 1926 Hubert Salvator von Hapsburg, Archduke of Austria
 
                                                                                          
ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF ALESSANDRO'S DESCENT:

Joseph, Duke of Croy Havre m. 1762 Adelaide, Princess of Croy Solre
                                         !
Amalie, Duchess of Croy Havre m. 1790 Charles, Marquis of Conflans
                                         !
Amalie de Conflans m. 1823 Eugene, Prince of Ligne
                                         !
Henri, Prince of Ligne m. 1851 Marguerite, Countess of Talleyrand Perigord
                                         !
Ernest Louis, Prince of Ligne m. 1887 Diane Marchioness of Cosse Brissac
                                         !
Eugene, Prince of Ligne m. 1917 Phillipine, Princess Noailles
                                         !
Yolanda, Princess of Ligne m. 1950 Karl von Hapsburg, Archduke of Austria

                                                                               
ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF ALESSANDRO'S DESCENT:

Giulio de Medici, Knight Commander of the Gallery of St.
            Stephen m. Lucrezia, Countess Gaetani
                                    !
Cosimo de Medici (illegitimate) m. Lucrezia, Countess Gaetani
                                    !
Angelica de Medici m. Gianpetro, Count Altemps
                                    !
Maria Cristina, Countess Altemps m. 1646 Ipollito, Duke Lante della Rovere
                                    !
Antonio, Duke Lante m. 1682 Angelique, Princesse de La Tremouille
                                    !
Luigi, Duke Lante m. Angela, Princess Vaini
                                    !
Fillipo, Duke Lante m. Faustina, Marchioness Caprianca
                                    !
Maria Christina Lante m. Averado, Duke Salviati
                                    !
Anna Maria Salviati m. Marcantonio , Prince Borghese
                                    !
Camillo, Prince Borghese m. 1803 Pauline Bonaparte, Napoleon's Sister


ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF ALESSANDRO'S DESCENT:

Marie Anne Lante m. Jean Baptiste, Duke of Croy Havre
                                     !
Adelaide, Croy Havre m. Emanuel, Prince of Croy Solre
                                     !
Constance, Princess of Croy Solre m. 1810 Ferdinand of Croy Solre
                                     !
Juste Marie, Prince of Croy m. 1854 Marie, Countess Ursel
                                     !
Charles, Prince of Croy m. 1896 Matilda, Countess Robiano
                                     !
Marie Imaculee m. 1926 Thiery, count of Limburg Stirum
                                     !
Evrard, Count of Limburg Stirum m. 1957 Helen,
Princess of France daughter of the Count of Paris



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Researched and Written by Mario de Valdes y Cocom an historian of the African diaspora.