Visit of Isabella d'Este to Milan--Birth of Beatrice's son, Francesco
Sforza--_Fêtes_ and comedies at the Milanese court--Works of Leonardo
and of Lorenzo di Pavia--Mission of Caradosso to Florence and Rome in
search of antiques--Fall of Naples--Entry of King Charles VIII. and
flight of Ferrante II.--Consternation in Milan--Departure of Isabella
d'Este.
1495
While Charles VIII. was leading his victorious army against Naples, and
striking terror into all hearts throughout the length and breadth of
Italy, Duchess Beatrice Sforza, as the wife of Lodovico now styled
herself, was joyfully expecting the birth of a second child. Once more
great preparations were made in the Rocchetta for the happy event. On
the 10th of December her sister Isabella sent her the size and pattern
of a cradle which her father had given her before the birth of her
little daughter, Leonora, the year before, excusing herself for not
writing a longer letter because she was engaged with her sister-in-law,
the Duchess of Montpensier. Duke Lodovico himself, immediately on his
return to Vigevano in November, had written begging the Marchesa to come
to Milan in January, and on the 15th she left Mantua. On the day after
her arrival she paid a visit of condolence to the widowed duchess, whose
sorrowful condition filled her with compassion.
"I found her in the large room," writes Isabella to her husband, on the
20th of January, "all hung with black, with only just light and air
enough to save one from suffocation. Her Highness wore a cloth cloak,
and a black veil on her head, and her deep mourning filled me with so
much compassion that I could not keep back my tears. I condoled with her
in your name and my own, and she gratefully accepted my sympathy, and
sent for her children, the sight of whom increased my emotion."
On the 4th of February, Beatrice gave birth to a second son, a fine boy,
who received no less than fifteen names, including those of Francesco
Sforza, after his illustrious grandfather. As a child he was called
Sforza, but became afterwards known as Francesco, under which name he
reigned during the last years of his short life over the duchy of Milan.
Isabella d'Este held the infant prince at the baptismal font, and
remained at Milan till the end of the Carnival, at the urgent entreaty
of her brother-in-law, who himself wrote to beg the marquis for
permission to keep his wife a few weeks longer.
Alfonso d'Este and his wife, Anna Sforza, always a favourite at the
court of Milan, now joined the ducal party, and took part in the
brilliant series of festivities which celebrated Beatrice's recovery and
the christening of the infant prince.
"Every third day," wrote Isabella to an absent Milanese friend of hers,
Anton Maria de' Collis, "we have triumphal and magnificent festivities,
one of which lasted till two in the morning, another was not over till
four o'clock. We spend the intervening days in riding and driving in the
park or else through the streets of Milan, which has been made so
beautiful that if you were to come back here to-day, you would no longer
know the place."
In another letter Isabella describes a splendid _festa_ at the house of
Messer Niccolo da Correggio, at which a representation of the fable of
Hippolyte and Theseus, as told in the "_Innamoramento di Orlando_" was
beautifully given. And in answer to a letter from her brother-in-law,
Giovanni Gonzaga, telling her of an allegorical representation in which
the famous Serafino of Aquila had taken part, she writes--
"Here too we are enjoying feasts and pleasures of every description,
which afford us the greatest possible delight, and I hope to tell you
many things that will excite your Highness's envy. For this is the
school of the master of those who know."[57]
Such phrases as these were no small praise on the lips of so
accomplished and critical a woman as Isabella d'Este. Another
contemporary, the Florentine Guicciardini, who visited the capital of
Lombardy, was filled with amazement at the sight, and describes Milan
during Lodovico's reign as famous for the wealth of its citizens; the
infinite number of its shops; the abundance and delicacy of all things
pertaining to human life; the superb pomp and sumptuous ornaments of its
inhabitants, both men and women; the skill and talent of its artists,
mechanics, embroiderers, goldsmiths, and armourers; and the innumerable
quantity of new and stately buildings which adorn its streets. "Not
only," he adds, "is the city full of joy and pleasure, of feasting and
delight, but so wonderfully is it increased in riches, magnificence, and
glory, that it may certainly be called the most flourishing and happiest
of all the cities in Italy."
The stranger from Florence and Venice might well admire the duke's
knowledge and taste, and wonder at the splendid results which his
enlightened patronage of art and learning had produced. For they saw his
great city of Milan as it has never been seen again, before the savage
invader had spoiled its charm and defaced its loveliness; when
Bramante's churches and porticoes rose in perfect symmetry against the
sky, and the glowing tints of Leonardo's frescoes were yet fresh upon
the walls. They saw the _Ruga bella_, or Beautiful Way, with its long
line of palaces on either side, its painted walls and richly carved
portals. They saw the lovely cupola of S. Maria delle Grazie, and the
marble cloisters of S. Ambrogio, and the graceful Baptistery of S.
Satiro, which Caradosso had lately adorned with his elegant frieze of
cherubs and medallions. They saw the stately arcades of the Spedale
Grande, and the deep-red brick and terra-cotta pile of the vast
Lazzaretto, and the wide streets and piazzas which the duke had laid out
"to give the people more light and air." Above all, they saw the great
Castello which was the pride of Lodovico's court. These vaulted ceilings
and painted halls, these beautiful gardens with their temples and
labyrinths, their fountains and statues, these splendid stables with
columned aisles and walls adorned with frescoes of horses, which the
French invaders admired more than anything else in Milan, were well-nigh
complete. But still Lodovico was always planning some new improvements
to add to the charm and pleasantness of the ducal residence. Isabella's
friend Leonardo, we know from one of the duke's letters, was engaged at
this moment in painting the vaults of the newly built Camerini, while
he was still putting the last touches to the famous equestrian statue
which the Marchesa now saw for the first time, and which the duke
promised should be soon cast in bronze. But the great master's thoughts
were taking a new direction, and he was already preparing designs for
the mural painting of the Cenacolo, with which Lodovico had ordered him
to decorate the refectory of the Dominicans in his favourite convent of
S. Maria della Grazie. It was a work after Leonardo's own heart, and he
determined to frame an altogether new and original composition, a Last
Supper which should be unlike all others in Italy. This time at least
the duke's fastidious taste should be satisfied, and the Lombards should
be made to own that Leonardo the Florentine was an artist who had no
equal.
Another of Isabella's favourite artists, Maestro Lorenzo, the gifted
organ-maker, was absent from court, and had left his old home at Pavia
to take up his abode at Venice near his friend Aldo Manuzio, the
printer. But during this visit the Marchesa saw "the beautiful and
perfect clavichord" which he had made for Beatrice, and vowed to leave
no stone unturned until she had obtained a similar one. Unfortunately,
when she wrote to inform Messer Lorenzo of her wishes, he was engaged in
making a viol for the Duchess of Milan, and had also promised Messer
Antonio Visconti a clavichord, so that he was unable to satisfy the
impatient Marchesa as quickly as she would have liked. Nothing daunted,
however, Isabella returned to the charge, and addressed a letter in her
sweetest and most persuasive strain to Count Antonio Visconti, begging
him, since her desires were so ardent and she had already waited so
long, of his courtesy to allow Messer Lorenzo to begin her clavichord as
soon as Duchess Beatrice's viol should be finished. The count naturally
enough was unable to refuse the request of so charming a princess, and
as usual Isabella got her own way. On Christmas Day, 1496, she wrote
joyously to tell her Venetian agent, Brognolo, that Messer Lorenzo had
just arrived at Mantua, bringing the precious clavichord, which was as
beautiful and perfect as it could possibly be. But the saddest part of
the story has yet to be told. After the death of Beatrice, and
Lodovico's final ruin, Isabella d'Este remembered the matchless organ
which Lorenzo de Pavia had made for her sister, and wrote immediately
to the Pallavicini brothers who had joined in the betrayal of the
Castello, begging them, if possible, to let her have the instrument. A
considerable time elapsed before her wish was gratified, but in the end
her perseverance triumphed over all difficulties, and on the last day of
July, 1501, she wrote to tell Messer Lorenzo that the beautiful
clavichord which he had made for the Duchess of Milan had been given her
by Galeazzo Pallavicino, the husband of Niccolo da Correggio's
half-sister, Elizabeth Sforza, and would be doubly precious to her as
his work and because of its rare excellence.[58] By a strange fate, the
fragments of this precious clavichord, which was so highly esteemed in
its day, have of late years found their way to the ancient palace of the
dukes of Ferrara in Venice. The instrument which the gifted Pavian made
for Beatrice, inscribed with the Greek and Latin mottoes chosen by
Lorenzo, may still be seen under the roof of her father's old house, in
those halls where the young duchess once spent that joyous May-time long
ago.
Another incident which took place at Milan during Isabella's visit, and
could not fail to inspire her with the keenest interest, was the arrival
of a marble Leda and a number of other antiques that were sent to the
duke from Rome, by the goldsmith Caradosso. After the flight of Piero
de' Medici and the revolution which had taken place in Florence,
Lodovico sent this well-known connoisseur to try and acquire some of the
priceless marbles or gems from the Magnificent Lorenzo's collection. But
the Florentine magistrates wisely declined to part from these objects of
art, which were now the property of the nation, and after Christmas
Caradosso went on to Rome. He arrived there to find the French army in
possession of the city and everything in the greatest confusion, but in
the end succeeded in securing several valuable antiques. The cardinals,
to whom Caradosso obtained introductions through Ascanio Sforza, were
glad to ingratiate themselves with the powerful Duke of Milan at this
critical moment, and the artist was able to inform his master that
Cardinal di Monreale had given him a marble Leda--a really good antique,
though some limbs of it were missing--and that other prelates had made
him liberal offers.
"The Cardinal of Parma asked me yesterday what brought me to Rome. I
told him I had come, by your Excellency's desire, to see if I could find
any beautiful works in bronze or marble that were to be had for gold.
Monsignore asked me if you really cared for these things. I replied,
'Yes, undoubtedly.' Upon which the Most Reverend informed me that he had
an antique statue, and begged me to come and see if I thought that you
would like it, as if so, he should be glad to send it as a present to
your Excellency. I have seen it, and it is decidedly good.... Monsignore
di Sanseverino has promised to show me some fine things, and I hear that
Monsignore Colonna and the Cardinal of Siena have also some good things,
but, unluckily, they are both of them away from Rome. Since I am here I
must do my best to play the rogue. I hope to have enough to load a bark
shortly, and send statues to Genoa and to Milan. Meanwhile I should be
glad if you would write and thank the Cardinal of Parma for his statue,
because it may induce him to send you some more fine works of art, and
your gratitude may lead others, who are anxious to gain your
Excellency's favour, to follow his example and send you some more
beautiful objects, so that the world may become aware how far you
surpass all other princes both in magnanimity and in the delight which
you take in this most laudable pursuit. On my return to Florence, I will
make another effort to obtain some of the precious objects which I saw
there, and perhaps this time affairs may be in better order, and I may
be more successful in obeying the orders of your Excellency, to whom I
commend myself.
"Your servant,
CARADOSSO DE MUNDO.
Roma, February, 1495."
No one sympathized more truly with Lodovico's passion for collecting
antiques, or appreciated the treasures of art which he had brought
together in the Castello, more fully than Isabella d'Este. As before,
this brilliant princess charmed all hearts at Milan. When she asked a
favour, whether it was of Count Pallavicino or Madonna Cecilia, of
Messer Lorenzo or Gian Bellini, no one could refuse her prayer. When she
received the Venetian ambassadors, the grace and gallantry of her
bearing were irresistible. Whatever she did was done well. Her high
spirits never failed, her strength never seemed to tire. She could ride
all day and dance all night. She could answer Gaspare Visconti's verses
in impromptu rhymes, and keep up animated literary controversies with
Niccolo da Correggio and Messer Galeaz, or discuss grave political
questions with the duke in the wisest and most sagacious manner. "As
usual," wrote her secretary Capilupi, "Madonna's gracious ways and
lively conversation have charmed every one here, most of all the Signor
Duca, who calls her his dear daughter, and always makes her dine with
him."
If Lodovico took pleasure in Isabella's company, Beatrice's warm heart
glowed with tender affection for the sister whose presence recalled her
dead mother and the home of her youth, while Isabella's love for
children could not resist the advances of her little nephew Ercole, who
followed his aunt about the rooms of the Castello and made her laugh
till the tears ran down her cheeks. But the happy peace of these days
was destined to be rudely disturbed. Suddenly, on the last day of the
month, news reached Milan that the King of France had entered Naples and
been crowned King of the Sicilies in the cathedral on the 22nd of
February. The young king Ferrante had fled to Ischia with the rest of
the royal family, and throughout his dominions the people flocked out
along the roads to hail the victor's coming, and welcomed him with
shouts of joy. Great was the consternation at the Milanese court that
evening, and Isabella wrote to her husband--
"So complete and sudden a downfall appears almost impossible both to
this illustrious lord, the duke, and to us all. It would indeed have
been impossible were it not a Divine judgment. This sad case must be an
example to all the kings and powers of the world, and will, I hope,
teach them to value the love of their subjects more than all their
fortresses, treasures, and men-at-arms, for, as we see now, the
discontent of the people is more dangerous to a monarch than all the
might of his enemies on the battle-field."
The bad news threw a gloom over the gay party in the Castello. All the
pleasure and feasting of the Carnival, all the mirth of the dancing and
feasting, died away. Isabella and Beatrice thought sadly of their cousin
Ferrante, the chivalrous young prince who was a favourite with all his
kinsfolk, and his sister, the widowed Duchess Isabella, shed bitter
tears over this fresh sorrow. Even comedies and pageants lost their old
gaiety and became dull and tedious. "To me this Carnival seems a
thousand years long," sighed Isabella d'Este, in a letter to her
husband, deploring her prolonged absence and complaining that the duke
would not allow her to leave before a certain day, fixed by his
astrologer. By the middle of March, however, she returned to Mantua,
followed by the most sincere regrets and liveliest expressions of
affection on the part of both her sister and brother-in-law.
"In all her actions," wrote Lodovico to the Marquis of Mantua, "this
worthy Madonna has shown so much charm and excellence, that, although we
rejoice to think you will soon enjoy her presence, we cannot but feel
great regret at the loss of her sweet company, and when she leaves us
to-morrow, I must confess we shall seem to be deprived of a part of
ourselves."
And a week later Beatrice wrote to her sister, "I cannot tell you often
enough how strange and sad the departure of your Highness has seemed to
me this time. Wherever I turn, in the house or out-of-doors, I seem to
see your face before my eyes, and when I find myself deceived, and
realize that you are really gone, you will understand how sore my
distress has been--nay, how great it still is. And you, I think, will
have felt the same grief, because of the love between us. Even little
Ercole misses you, and keeps on asking continually in his childish
fashion for his aunt, and crying '_Cia, cia!_' and he seems quite lost
when he cannot find you anywhere."[59]
Beatrice's strange and sad forebodings were destined to prove all too
true. That was Isabella's last visit to her brother-in-law's court, and
the sisters never met again. When, thirteen years afterwards, the
Marchesa returned once more to Milan and danced in the halls of the
Castello, she came as the guest of Louis XII., the king who had
conquered Lodovico's fair duchy and brought about the ruin of the house
of Sforza. Beatrice had long been dead, her children were in exile, and
the Moro was wearing his heart out in lonely captivity within the gloomy
prison walls of Loches.
FOOTNOTES:
[57] Luzio-Renier, _op. cit._, p. 622.
[58] C. dell'Acqua, _Lorenzo Gusnasco_, pp. 19, 20.
[59] Luzio-Renier, _op. cit._, pp. 622, 623.