Isabella of Aragon and Beatrice d'Este--Ambrogio Borgognone and
Giovanni Antonio Amadeo--Cristoforo Romano and his works at Pavia and
Cremona--The Certosa of Pavia--Illness of Beatrice--Her journey to
Genoa--Correspondence between Isabella and Lodovico Sforza--Visit of
the Marquis of Mantua to Milan.
1491-1492
In the frequent letters which Lodovico and Beatrice both of them
addressed to the Marchioness of Mantua, as well as in those of Giacomo
Trotti to the Duke of Ferrara, we find many allusions to the Duke of
Milan's wife, Isabella of Aragon. This princess, who was Beatrice's
first cousin and only five years older than Lodovico's wife, is
mentioned not only as present with her husband at all court festivities
and hunting-parties, but as her constant companion in all her
occupations and amusements, both at Vigevano and Pavia. In after-days,
when Lodovico had a son of his own and was suspected of designs on the
ducal crown, Duchess Isabella bitterly resented his conduct and that of
his wife. But there is absolutely no foundation for Corio's statement
that this rivalry between the two duchesses began at the time of
Beatrice's wedding, and that from the moment of her arrival at Milan,
Lodovico's wife objected to yield precedence to the Duchess of Milan.
The Milanese chronicler wrote after Lodovico's fall, and always assumed
the truth of the worst charges brought against the Moro and his wife.
Unfortunately, his hasty and inaccurate statements have been repeated by
Guicciardini and other contemporaries, and accepted as literally true by
later writers. In this case Corio probably looked back on the past
through the medium of the present, and judged the actors in the drama by
the light of their later conduct. In any case, there is absolutely no
trace of any jealousy or rivalry between the two young duchesses in the
private letters and court records of the period. On the contrary,
Isabella seems to have welcomed her cousin's presence joyfully, and to
have found that the dull life which she led by the side of her feeble
husband was sensibly brightened by Beatrice's company.
Bellincioni, whose verses certainly mirror the court life of the day, if
they also breathe the incense of flattery, wrote several sonnets in
which he descants on the close friendship and companionship of the two
duchesses, and the love that bound them together in the tender bonds of
sisterly affection. He is never tired of praising the concord that
reigned in the ducal family, and the pleasure that Beatrice took in
Isabella's little son, who was constantly seen in her arms.
"And when the ladies ask if she does not wish for a son of her own, she
replies in sweet accents, 'This one child is enough for me;' and
straightway all her courtiers repeat and extol her answer."
But more trustworthy than the rhymes of court poets is the evidence to
be found in the letters describing the daily round of life at Milan or
Pavia and Vigevano. Here Isabella and Beatrice are mentioned as joining
in the same games and sports, whether playing at ball, sometimes even
trying their strength in wrestling matches.
"The two duchesses," writes the Ferrarese ambassador, on the 28th of
April, "have been having a sparring match, and the Duke of Bari's wife
has knocked down her of Milan."
Sometimes their escapades were of a decidedly undignified order. But
practical jokes were much in vogue among these exalted lords and ladies
of the Renaissance. For instance, we find Beatrice's brother Alfonso and
Messer Galeazzo, disguised as robbers, breaking into the house of
Girolamo Tuttavilla, one of Lodovico's favourite ministers, at midnight,
and leading him blindfold on a donkey through the streets of Milan and
into the Castello, where he was released amid peals of laughter. And the
two young duchesses seem to have celebrated this Eastertide, which they
spent at Milan, by the wildest freaks.
"There is literally no end to the pleasures and amusements which we
have here," writes Lodovico, on the 12th of April, to his sister-in-law
at Mantua. "I could not tell you one-thousandth part of the tricks and
games in which the Duchess of Milan and my wife indulge. In the country
they spent their time in riding races and galloping up behind their
ladies at full speed, so as to make them fall off their horses. And now
that we are back here in Milan, they are always inventing some new forms
of amusement. They started yesterday in the rain on foot, with five or
six of their ladies, wearing cloths or towels over their heads, and
walked through the streets of the city to buy provisions. But since it
is not the custom for women to wear cloths on their heads here, some of
the women in the street began to laugh at them and make rude remarks,
upon which my wife fired up and replied in the same manner, so much so
that they almost came to blows. In the end they came home all muddy and
bedraggled, and were a fine sight! I believe, when your Highness is
here, they will go out with all the more courage, since they will have
in you so bold and spirited a comrade, and if any one dares to be rude
to you, they will get back as good as they give! From your affectionate
brother,
"Lodovico."[15]
Isabella, for all her wisdom and prudence, does not seem to have been in
the least scandalized by her sister's behaviour, and replied that she
would have done worse if any one had ventured to insult her; upon which
Lodovico remarked--
"Your letter in answer to my description of my wife and the duchess
walking about Milan with cloths on their heads, delighted me. I am sure
you have far too much spirit to allow rude things to be said to you, and
when I read your letter, I could see the angry flash in your eye, and
hear the indignant answer that you would have had in readiness for any
one who dared insult you."
The next letter we give was written on the 12th of June, from the
Castello di Pavia, where the ducal family spent that summer, and is of
special interest on account of the allusions which it contains to the
famous sanctuary of the Certosa.
"I have spent several days lately at the Certosa, which your Highness,
I know, visited when you were last here. And since I did not think the
choir-stalls in the church were in any way suitable or equal in beauty
to the rest of the building, I went back there the day before yesterday
and had them taken down, and have ordered new stalls to be designed in
their place. And as I was returning, the duke and duchess and my wife
came to meet me, and attacked me suddenly, and in order to defend
myself, I divided my retainers, who were most of them riding mules, into
three squadrons, and charged the enemy in due order, so there was a fine
scuffle! Then we came home to see some youths run races, with lances in
their hands, and after that we went to supper. And since those
illustrious duchesses took it into their heads to return again to the
Certosa, they went back there yesterday morning, and when it was time
for them to return, I went out to meet them, and found that both
duchesses and all their ladies were dressed in Turkish costumes. These
disguises were invented by my wife, who had all the dresses made in one
night! It seems that when they began to set to work about noon
yesterday, the Duchess of Milan could not contain her amazement at
seeing my wife sewing with as much vigour and energy as any old woman.
And my wife told her that, whatever she did, whether it were jest or
earnest, she liked to throw her whole heart into it and try and do it as
well as possible. Certainly in this case she succeeded perfectly, and
the skill and grace with which she carried out her idea gave me
indescribable pleasure and satisfaction."[16]
The passage is eminently characteristic both of the Moro and his wife.
We see on the one hand the spirit and resolution which made Beatrice, in
the words of the Emperor Maximilian, not merely a sweet and loving wife
to her lord, but a partner who shared actively in all his schemes and
lightened every burden; and on the other, we understand the admiration
which this force of character and tenacity of purpose excited in
Lodovico's weaker and more easily swayed nature. Beatrice's masquerade
recalls another curious feature of the day--that taste for Turkish
costumes and interest in Oriental habits which had sprung up in Italy
during the forty years which had elapsed since the fall of
Constantinople. In Venice, Gentile Bellini and Carpaccio were already
showing signs of this familiarity with Eastern habits by the Turkish
costumes and personages who figure in their pictures; and a troop of
Turks were introduced into a masque written by the Milanese poet,
Gaspare Visconti, and acted before the Court. These strangers from the
far East, attracted by the fame of the great city of Milan, were
supposed to arrive in a boat on the Lombard shores, singing the
following chorus:--
"Bel paese è Lombardia
Degno assai, ricca e galante.
Ma di gioie la Soria
E di fructi è più abbondante
Tanta fama è per il mondo
Del gran vostro alto Milano,
Che solcando il mar profondo;
Siam venuti da lontano,
Gran paese soriano,
Per veder se cosi sia,
Bel paese di Lombardia."
Still greater interest attaches to Lodovico's description of his own
visit to the Certosa and of the alterations which he effected in the
choir. This famous church and monastery had been the pride of successive
Dukes of Milan, since the day when Galeazzo Visconti laid the first
stone in his park of Pavia a hundred years before. Viscontis and Sforzas
had alike helped to enrich their ancestor's mighty foundation, and to
carry on the work. But the Certosa owes more to Lodovico Sforza than to
any other member of the dynasty. From the day when he returned to Milan
and took up the reins of government in his nephew's name, to the last
sad moments when his state was crumbling to pieces, this great shrine
was the special object of his solicitude. In his eyes, as he said in the
letter informing the Prior and brothers of Duchess Leonora's visit, the
Certosa was the jewel of the crown, the noblest monument in the whole
realm. The completion of the façade and the internal decoration of the
great church and chapels was one of the objects that lay nearest to his
heart. A whole army of architects and sculptors, painters and builders
were employed under his orders; and so great was the store of precious
marbles, brought there from Carrara and other parts of Italy, that the
place was said to resemble a vast stone quarry. During the twenty years
that the Moro reigned as Regent and Duke in Milan, the new apse built in
Bramante's classical style, the central cupola, and the beautiful
cloisters with their slender marble shafts and dark red terra-cotta
friezes of angel-heads, all rose into being. Then Ambrogio Borgognone
decorated the roof of nave and apse, and designed the elaborate
_intarsiatura_ of these very choir-stalls to which Lodovico alludes in
his letter to Isabella d'Este. And then the same Lombard master painted
these frescoes and altar-pieces of grave saints and gentle Madonnas,
which still adorn the side chapels with their solemn forms and rich
golden harmonies. Many of these are ruined, others we know are gone. The
fragments of the noble banners with portraits of kneeling figures, which
the artist painted for processional use on solemn occasions are now in
our National Gallery. There, too, is that loveliest of all Perugino's
Madonnas, with the warrior Archangels at her side, and the perfect
landscape beyond, which the Umbrian master painted in the last years of
the century, by the Moro's express command, for his favourite sanctuary.
But the crowning work of Lodovico's days was the façade of the great
church which, after many different attempts, was finally begun in 1491,
and mostly executed during the next seven years. This magnificent
creation, the triumph of Lombard genius, was designed by a native
architect, Giovanni Antonio Amadeo, or Di Madeo, as he signs himself, a
peasant lad who had grown up in his father's farm close by, and whose
earliest independent work is said to have been a group of angels on the
marble doorway leading from the church into the cloisters. He had
afterwards been employed at Bergamo, where the Colleoni Chapel and the
effigy of the great Condottiere's young daughter, the sleeping virgin
Medea, still bear witness to his poetic invention and rare decorative
skill. One of Lodovico's first acts after his return to Milan had been
to recall Amadeo to Pavia, and in 1490, this gifted artist was appointed
_Capo maestro_ of the Certosa works. To his delicate fancy and exquisite
refinement we owe much of the lovely detail in the church and cloisters,
the singing angels of the portals, the reliefs on Gian Galeazzo's
monument, and in the monks' lavatory, and the medallions of the Sforzas
over the doorways of the choir. There we may see the strongly marked
features and refined expression of the great Moro, between his brother
and his nephew, while above the opposite portal are the four Duchesses
of Milan, Bianca Maria Visconti, Bona of Savoy, Isabella of Aragon, and
Beatrice d'Este with the same soft, beautiful face, the same long coil
of hair and jewelled net that we see in her portrait in the Brera or in
Cristoforo Romano's bust in the Louvre.
But the wonderful marble façade, with its great central portal and
round-headed windows, its historical reliefs and marvellous wealth of
decorative sculpture, is Amadeo's grandest creation. We know not how far
it was completed before 1499, when his labours as chief architect of the
cathedrals of Milan and Pavia compelled him to give up his post at the
Certosa; but in much of the ornamental detail--in the angels that adorn
its branches of the candelabra between the windows, in the profusion of
carved trophies, armorial bearings, burning censers, cherub-heads,
leaf-mouldings, flowers and fruit that has been lavished on every
portion of the west front we recognize his handiwork. And this façade of
the Certosa, more than any other architectural work of the age, bears
the stamp of Lodovico Sforza's peculiar genius. Alike in the abundance
of classical motives and in the amazing wealth of invention and infinite
grace that inspired the whole conception, we recognize Lodovico's
passionate love of the antique and minute attention to detail. We know
that he was constantly on the spot, as the letter to his sister-in-law
proves, and that when absent from Pavia the works of the Certosa were
constantly in his mind. He was always writing orders to Amadeo to buy
marbles and hurry on the work, always urging the prior to hasten the
completion of the church, or inquiring in Florence and Rome for new
masters to paint altar-pieces for the Certosa. And to-day, when so many
of his noblest creations have perished, when the glorious pile of the
Castello of Milan, with its stately towers and frescoed halls, rich
decorations and vast gardens, has been defaced and battered by the hands
of barbarian invaders, when Leonardo's fresco is a wreck and the tomb
of Beatrice broken to pieces, when Vigevano and Cussago are in ruins,
and the matchless library of Pavia has been scattered to the winds, we
rejoice to think that the Certosa remains to show us how splendid were
the dreams and how rare the skill of artists in the days when Lodovico
Sforza reigned over Milan.
One of the finest artists who was working at the Certosa under
Lodovico's eye in the summer of 1491, was the accomplished Roman
sculptor, Giovanni Cristoforo Romano. We remember how he had been sent
to Ferrara in the autumn of the previous year to execute a bust of
Beatrice for his master. Since then he had gone back to his work at the
Certosa, where he was employed upon the monument which Lodovico was
raising to his ancestor Gian Galeazzo Visconti, the founder of the great
Carthusian Abbey. His exact share in this noble work, which was begun in
1490, remains uncertain, but both the effigy of this duke and the figure
of the Madonna and Child in the upper part of the monument are generally
ascribed to his hand. At the same time Cristoforo had promised to design
the chief portal of the ancient Stanga palace in Cremona, which was
being restored by Lodovico's Superintendent of Finances, the Marchese
Stanga, known in court circles as the Marchesino, to distinguish him
from his father, Duchess Bianca Maria's faithful servant. That June the
Marchesino was married at Milan to a daughter of Count Giovanni
Borromeo, and on this occasion, doubtless, he employed the gifted Roman
sculptor to design the magnificent doorway which now adorns the Louvre
and is a masterpiece of classic elegance. But now a fresh invitation
reached Cristoforo from another quarter.
The Marchioness of Mantua had seen the Roman master's bust of her sister
Beatrice when she came to Milan in the winter for the wedding
festivities, and was seized with an ardent wish to have her features
carved in marble by the same unrivalled artist. On the 22nd of June she
wrote to Beatrice from her favourite villa at Porto, near Mantua,
begging her to ask Lodovico if he would kindly allow "that excellent
master, Johan Cristoforo, who carved your Highness's portrait in
marble," to come to Mantua for a few days, that he might render her the
same service. Beatrice, who was always ready and anxious to gratify
Isabella's wishes, replied that she had shown the letter at once to her
husband, and that Lodovico would gladly comply with her sister's
request, and had written to beg the Marchesino--for whom Johan
Cristoforo was working at that moment--to send this master to Mantua.
"No doubt by this time," he adds, writing from Pavia on the 15th of
July, "Messer Cristoforo is already on his way to Mantua."
But the sculptor, like most great artists, took his time about his work,
and would not be interrupted or hurried, even to please so charming and
illustrious a lady as Isabella d'Este. He wrote a courteous note to the
Marchesa from Pavia, saying how gladly he would have obeyed her summons
on the spot, and how deeply he regretted that this was impossible, since
he could not leave the work upon which he was engaged for the Marchesino
unfinished. But he hoped to have the pleasure of seeing her some day.
Meanwhile he suggested that she should order two pieces of fine marble
from Venice, and see that they were very white and without stain or vein
of colour. Isabella, however, was not easily discouraged, especially
where excellent masters and works of art were in question, and, as she
wrote on another occasion to Niccolo da Correggio, liked to have her
wishes gratified on the spot. This time she wrote to the Marchesino
himself, begging him to send Messer Johan Cristoforo to Mantua as soon
as possible. Now Giovanni Stanga, besides being a finished courtier, was
on intimate terms with the fair Marchesana herself and with all her
family. Only a few weeks before, Isabella had written him a charming
letter of congratulation on his marriage, and he often sent presents of
silver boxes and ornaments both to her and Duchess Leonora. So, when his
own doorway was finished, he did his best to induce the sculptor to
oblige the marchioness. But Cristoforo had evidently no intention of
leaving Pavia at present. The summer months slipped away, and still
Isabella waited in vain. At length, in October, she heard from the
Marchesino that Messer Cristoforo feared it was impossible for him to
come to Mantua at all this year, since his whole time was spent in
working at the Certosa, besides which he was one of the Duchess of
Bari's singers, and must obey her wishes and travel with her, now in
one direction, now in another. "At present," adds the writer, "he is
with her in Genoa."
It was not, in fact, until after Beatrice's death that Isabella obtained
Lodovico's leave for his favourite sculptor to visit Mantua. By that
time the duke's affairs were in dire confusion, and seeing there was
little hope of further employment and none of certain pay, Messer
Cristoforo left the Milanese court sorrowfully and went to Mantua, where
he carved the lovely doorway still to be seen in Isabella's studio of
_Il Paradiso_ at the top of the grim old Castello, and designed the
beautiful medal of the marchioness herself, which was praised as a
divine thing at the Court of Naples, and which the old scholar Jacopo
d'Atri kissed a thousand times over, for the sake of its beauty and of
the likeness which it bore to the beloved mistress whom he had not seen
for so many years. Afterwards we know Cristoforo moved on to Urbino,
where Bembo and Emilia Pia and the good duchess all gave him a glad
welcome, and Castiglione enshrined his memory in the pages of the
_Cortigiano_. Then, again, we find him in his native city, Rome,
searching for antiques in the ruins of the Eternal City, and examining
the newly discovered Laocoon with Michelo Angelo, until at last the
incurable malady which had long undermined his strength put an end to
his life, and he died in the prime of manhood at the Santa Casa of
Loreto. But his best work was done, and his happiest years were spent,
in the service of Duchess Beatrice, at the court of Milan.
If Lodovico did not always care to part from his best artists at
Isabella's request, he rarely failed to oblige his charming
sister-in-law in other matters. Presents of game and venison, choice
vegetables and fruit, artichokes and truffles, apples and pears or
peaches, were constantly borne to Mantua by his couriers; and in return
Isabella would send him the famous salmon-trout of the Lake of Garda,
that were accounted such rare delicacies, and which Lodovico was fond of
seeing at table, especially, as he often remarked, in Lent. The
correspondence between the two courts was briskly kept up that year,
although Isabella was unable to visit Milan. Lodovico himself rarely
missed a post, and complained repeatedly that Isabella was not so
regular a correspondent as himself.
"Certainly, my affection for your Highness is greater than yours for
me," he says, writing in September, 1491. "It is plain that I think of
you much oftener than you think of me, and I know for certain that I
write far more letters to you than you ever write to me."
But Isabella was unwearied in the applications which she made constantly
to her brother-in-law on behalf of persons who, rightly or wrongly, had
been accused of offences against the laws of Milan. Often, it must be
owned, these suppliants whom she recommended to mercy proved to be
criminals of the worst type; and quite as often the _protégés_ whom she
sent to Milan turned out to be utterly worthless characters. This made
her a little ashamed of the perpetual recommendations with which she
troubled Lodovico, and explains the apologetic tone of a note which she
addressed to him in June, 1491, on behalf of some suppliant for money.
"The letters of recommendation which I have received in this case are so
urgent that I feel it would be brutal to refuse the petition I send you,
especially since they are addressed to me by private friends. But if
your Highness complains, as you may justly do, of the frequency of my
appeals, I must ask you to impute their persistency less to me than to
my innate compassion, which induces me to intercede for all who ask in
good faith. But the truth is, your Highness has given me so many tokens
of affection that many persons who seek your favour apply to me,
trusting to my powers of intercession. And since I should be well
content to let the whole world know the love and kindness which your
Highness shows me, I grant these requests the more easily, because I
remember what good fruit my recommendations have hitherto borne."
Sometimes, when the Marquis Gianfrancesco was away from Mantua, we find
his wife consulting Lodovico on affairs of state, asking him to prevent
her neighbour Galeotto della Mirandola from constructing a canal which
may injure her subjects, or appealing to the Sanseverino brothers in the
case of a faithless servant of hers who had sought shelter under the
Count of Caiazzo's banners. Beatrice, in her turn, occasionally sent her
servants and subjects with recommendations to Mantua. For instance,
that July a Milanese soldier named Messer Giacomello arrived at the
court of the Gonzagas, with letters from the Duchess of Bari and Messer
Galeazzo di Sanseverino, asking for leave to fight a duel with a man of
Ascoli who had insulted him; and the marchioness, ignorant of the
customary method of treating these challenges, referred the case to her
husband in a long and elaborate statement.
Towards the end of September Beatrice fell ill, and for some days her
husband was seriously uneasy about her. The anxiety which he showed, and
the attentions with which he surrounded her, were duly reported by
Giacomo Trotti in a letter to Ferrara.
"Signor Lodovico," he wrote on the 18th of September, "does not leave
his wife's bedside by day or night. He is always with her, and thinks of
nothing but how he can best please and amuse her. The only cause of
regret he has is that as yet there are not any signs of the birth of a
son and heir."
Lodovico's concern for his young wife was genuine. He wrote daily
reports of her health to Isabella and her mother, and on the 4th of
October rejoiced to be able to tell the Marchesana that her sister had
once more been able to assist at a boar-hunt, which had taken place six
miles from Pavia.
"Yesterday your sister came to look on at a boar-hunt, six or seven
miles from here. She drove to the spot in a chariot with a raised seat
at the back, very much like the pulpits from which friars preach! Here
she stood up, to be out of danger, and enjoyed herself immensely, as
being placed at such a height, she could see the whole hunt better than
any one else."
A few days later he wrote again to say he had decided to send his wife
to Genoa, since the air of Pavia was not healthy, he felt convinced, at
this season of the year, and in the hope that change would help to
complete her cure.
"To-morrow my wife starts for Genoa _incognita_. I am sending her, first
of all, to give her pleasure and do her health good, and, secondly, to
prepare the way for your Highness when you come here next."
Unfortunately, we have no further particulars of this visit to Genova la
Superba, that city which both the sisters were so anxious to see, and
the letters in which Beatrice described this journey to her husband have
either perished or still lie buried in some private archives. All we
know is that Cristoforo Romano was among the singers who accompanied the
duchess on this occasion, although she travelled _incognita_ and took
only a few persons in her suite.
By December Lodovico and his wife were again settled in Milan, where
they received an unexpected visit from the Marquis of Mantua in the
first week of that month. Gianfrancesco's own wife was absent with her
mother at Ferrara, and without even informing Isabella of his intention,
he suddenly arrived at Milan, and spent a week at the Castello with the
Duke and Duchess of Bari. As a rule, the company of the marquis, a brave
soldier, but not apparently a very attractive person, with his short
ungainly figure and rugged features, his dark complexion and rough
manners, was not particularly agreeable to his polished brother-in-law;
but he received a kindly welcome from both his hosts on this occasion,
and was highly gratified with the honours and attention that were paid
him. Isabella, on her part, was overjoyed to hear of the kindness with
which her husband had been treated at the court of Milan, and declared
that his letters gave her as much pleasure as if she had been with him
herself. Lodovico did his guest the honours of his palace and city,
showed him the treasures and jewels of the Castello, and sent him home
loaded with gifts. Among other presents which Gianfrancesco received
from his brother-in-law were a pair of lions which the Moro, who was
constantly sending to Africa for wild beasts, showed him in his
menagerie, and promised to send him as soon as they were sufficiently
tame. Some weeks, however, passed before they were pronounced fit to
travel safely, and it was not till February of the following year that
they were sent to Mantua, with a note from Lodovico, explaining that the
keeper who accompanied them was accustomed to wild beasts, and would
teach Gianfrancesco's servants how to treat them.
FOOTNOTES:
[15] Luzio-Renier, _op. cit._, p. 111.
[16] Luzio-Renier, _op. cit._, p. 114.