CELLINI (Florence, formerly Rome and Paris), February 13th, 1571, peacefully after a lone illness, impatiently borne, at his residence on the via del Rosaio, Benvenuto, in his 71st year. Deeply regretted by his loving wife Piera di Salvadore Parigi, daughter Maddelena, infant son Andrea Simone, and a large extended family. Funeral February 15th, with public honours after High Mass in the Church of the Annunziata, Florence, in the presence of His Magnificence, the Grand Duke Cosimo of Tuscany.
Such a notice might well have greeted readers of the Florentine Times, had there existed such an organ, on this day 425 years ago. It would have marked the end of an eventful life, the details of which were recorded with much hyperbole and no dissimulation in the lengthy autobiography of the deceased. Benveauto Cellini is best remembered as a goldsmith and sculptor of quite awesome talent, but among the many, often bizarre, feats recorded in his book is the clearing away of rain by means of gunfire.
It happened in 1538, when Benvenuto was consigned to the papal prison of Castel Sant Angelo in Rome for misappropriating papal gold. Around that same time, the Duchess Margaret of Austria, daughter of the Emperor Charles V, was scheduled to make a festive entrance into the city for her wedding to Duke Ottavio Farenese, grandson of the reigning Pontiff, Paul III. A lavish reception had been arranged for the young duchess, to be attended by cardinals, bishops, ambassadors and noblemen, and naturally on such a great occasion the weather was of prime importance.
Throughout the morning the rain poured down incessantly, but despite his confinement the resourceful Benvenuto managed to betake himself through the deluge to the battlements of the prison. "I have pointed several large pieces of artillery in the direction where the clouds were the thickest, and whence a deluge of water was already pouring; then when I began to fire, the rain stopped, and at the fourth discharge the sun shone out; and so I was the sole cause of the festival succeeding to the joy of everybody."
There is no scientific reason why Cellini's whiff of grapeshot should have worked: it was pure coincidence that the rain stopped. But the governor of the prison told the Pope, who no doubt told his grandson, who in turn told his new wife that it was Benvenuto who had saved their special day and the latter - by his own account at any rate - be came a celebrity in the Holy City overnight.