Isabella d'Este joins her husband in Naples--Works of Bramante and
Leonardo in the Castello of Milan--The Cenacolo--Lodovico sends for
Perugino--His passion for Lucrezia Crivelli--Grief of Beatrice--Death of
Bianca Sforza--The Emperor Maximilian at Pavia--The Duke and Duchess
return to Milan--Last days and sudden death of Beatrice d'Este.
1496
The records we have of Beatrice's private life during this busy year are
very meagre and disappointing. Scarcely one of her letters, belonging to
this period, has been preserved, while those which her sister Isabella
addressed to Milan are almost as rare. The _marchesa's_ time and
thoughts had been much engaged in public affairs during the absence of
her husband with the Venetian forces at Naples, and she had little
leisure for correspondence. On the 13th of July she gave birth to a
second child, which, to her great disappointment, proved to be another
girl, who received the name of Margherita, but only lived a few weeks.
Of this event the duchess was duly informed, and, in sending her
congratulations, was able to tell her sister that she was hoping to
become the mother of a third child early in the following year. In
September the marquis fell dangerously ill of fever, and his wife
hurried to join him in Calabria, and, as soon as he was able to move,
brought him back by slow stages to Mantua. During that summer, the only
letter of interest which Isabella wrote to the Milanese court was a note
to her friend, the jester Barone, begging him to find out for her how
Messer Galeazzo and others who like him are the glass of fashion, manage
to dye their hair black on certain occasions, and afterwards resume the
natural colour of their locks, adding that she remembers distinctly to
have seen Count Francesco Sforza with black locks one day, and the next
with brown.
On the 9th of November, Lodovico wrote an imperative note from Vigevano
to the Castellan of the Rocchetta, Bernardino del Corte, desiring him to
see that the walls of the new rooms are dry and ready for habitation by
the end of the month, since the duchess must have the use of the
apartments adjoining the ball-room during her approaching confinement,
and telling him to ask Bergonzio, the treasurer, for money, if more
should be required. Bernardino replied that the rooms were finished, and
that good fires had been lighted to dry the walls, and that the whole
suite would be furnished by the following week and ready to receive the
duchess. He also informed the duke that the new rooms on the side of the
garden would be completed by Christmas, and told him that Bramante,
after finishing the arcades of the new gallery between the ball-room and
Rocchetta, had begun the design of the new tower. Both Leonardo and
Bramante were employed on extensive works in the Castello during the
duke's absence that summer, although the Florentine master, we know, was
chiefly engaged in finishing his great fresco in the refectory of the
Dominican convent outside the Porta Vercellina. Often during the summer
heats, Matteo Bandello, then a young novice of the Order, saw the
Florentine master at noonday, "when the sun was in the sign of the
Lion," leave the Corte Vecchia, where he was finishing his great horse,
and, hurrying through the streets to the Grazie, mount the scaffold,
brush in hand, and put a few touches to some of the figures in the
Cenacolo, after which he would hurry away as quickly as he came. Often
too the young friar watched him at his work; "for this excellent
painter," Matteo tells us, "always liked to hear other people give their
opinions freely on his pictures." Many a time the young Dominican saw
Messer Leonardo ascend the scaffold in the early morning, and remain
there from sunrise till the hour of twilight, forgetting to eat and
drink, and painting all the while without a moment's pause. Sometimes
again he would not paint a single stroke for several days, but just
stand before the picture during one or two hours, contemplating his
work, and considering and examining the different figures. And the
friars were very much annoyed because of the master's delays, and
complained to the duke, who paid him so large a sum for the work, that
he had not yet begun the head of the traitor Judas. When the duke asked
Leonardo why he left this head undone, he replied that during the last
year he had been vainly seeking in all the worst streets of Milan to
find a type of criminal who would suit the character of Judas, but that
if desired he would introduce the prior's own likeness, which he thought
would answer the purpose excellently! This answer is said to have amused
the duke highly, and Lodovico and his painter had a good laugh together
at the expense of the prior.
But since Leonardo was otherwise engaged, and another painter who had
been employed in the Castello suddenly disappeared, owing, we are told,
to some scandal in which he was concerned, the duke determined to send
to Florence for another artist to complete the decorations of his new
rooms. There was evidently no Lombard master whom he considered equal to
the task, and since Lorenzo de' Medici had sent him Leonardo, there
might be some other artists of rare excellence among his
fellow-citizens. So Lodovico wrote to his envoy at Florence, and desired
him to let him have a full description of the best painters then living
there. In reply, he received the following list, which is still
preserved in the archives of Milan, and which is of great interest, both
as a monument of the Moro's untiring perseverance in seeking out the
best masters, and as a record of the different degrees of estimation in
which living artists were held by their contemporaries:--
"Sandro de Botticelli--a most excellent master, both in panel and
wall-painting. His figures have a manly air, and are admirable in
conception and proportion.
"Filippino di Frati Filippo--an excellent disciple of the above-named,
and a son of the rarest master of our times. His heads have a gentler
and more suave air; but, we are inclined to think, less art.
"Il Perugino--a rare and singular artist, most excellent in
wall-painting. His faces have an air of the most angelic sweetness.
"Domenico de Grillandaio--a good master in panels and a better one in
wall-painting. His figures are good, and he is an industrious and active
master, who produces much work.
"All of these masters have given proof of their excellence in the Chapel
of Pope Sixtus, excepting Filippino, and also in the Spedaletto of the
Magnifico Laurentio, and their merit is almost equal."[63]
This intimation seems to have decided Lodovico to apply to Perugino,
whom Leonardo had known as his fellow-pupil in Verrocchio's atelier at
Florence, and who was supposed to be in Venice at the time. So his
secretary wrote to desire Guido Arcimboldo, the Archbishop of Milan, who
was then in Venice, to inquire for the Umbrian master, and see if he
could be induced to visit Milan. The archbishop, writing on the 14th of
June, replied that Maestro Pietro of Perugia had left Venice six months
ago and was back at Florence. Lodovico, however, did not lose sight of
the master, and in the following October, by his desire, the monks of
the Certosa of Pavia engaged this popular artist to paint an altar-piece
for one of their chapels. In the following year the duke returned to the
charge, and hearing that Perugino had returned to his native city, wrote
two pressing letters to one of the Baglioni, who was the chief
magistrate of Perugia, begging him, as a personal favour, to induce
Messer Pietro to come to Milan, and offering to pay the artist whatever
price he may ask, and to retain him permanently in his service or keep
him only for a fixed time, as he may think best. Perugino, however, was
then engaged in decorating the Sala del Cambio in his native town, and
had already more commissions than he could execute. He declined the Duke
of Milan's repeated invitations, and the Moro was obliged to fall back
upon Bramante and Leonardo to finish the works in the Castello.
But although the duke's passion for building new churches and palaces or
beautifying those which he had already built, was as ardent as ever, it
became more and more difficult to find the money to meet the vast
expenditure which his splendid schemes involved. The _fêtes_ in honour
of Maximilian and the subsidies which had been granted for his
expedition had already entailed heavy expenses, and on every side the
same complaint was heard. There was no money to pay the salaries of the
numerous professors at Pavia and Milan, whose chairs had been founded
by Lodovico himself; none to pay the bills for building and furnishing
the new rooms in the Castello, or to cast Leonardo's great horse in
bronze. Everywhere people were groaning at the heavy burdens imposed
upon them, and at Lodi, Cremona, and other places there had been not
only murmuring against the duke, but actual rioting and tumults, while
in some parts of the duchy the inhabitants were leaving their homes to
escape these harsh exactions. Lodovico's most faithful servants began to
look grave, and the duke himself could not but be aware of his growing
unpopularity among his subjects.
Whether these rumours reached the ears of Beatrice and disturbed her
happiness, we cannot tell; but we know that her life was saddened and
the gladness of her heart clouded by a new sorrow that autumn. The duke,
who for many years past had proved himself a devoted and affectionate
husband, and realized better than any one what an admirable companion
and partner he had in his young wife, suddenly found a new object for
his affections in Lucrezia Crivelli, a beautiful and accomplished maiden
of a noble Milanese family, who was one of the duchess's
ladies-in-waiting. Soon Lodovico's passion for this new mistress became
publicly known, Leonardo was employed to paint her picture; and, under
the date of November, 1496, the annalist of Ferrara writes, "The latest
news from Milan is that the duke spends his whole time and finds all his
pleasure in the company of a girl who is one of his wife's maidens. And
his conduct is ill regarded here." The chronicler Muralti, in his brief
and touching account of the young duchess, after recalling Beatrice's
charms and joyous nature, tells us that, although Lodovico loved his
wife intensely, he took Lucrezia Crivelli for his mistress, a thing
which caused Beatrice the most bitter anguish of mind, but could not
alter her love for him. And remorse for the pain which he had caused
Beatrice gave the sharpest sting to Lodovico's own despair, on that sad
day when he wept for his young wife's early death.
That autumn a fresh and unexpected blow fell upon the ducal family, in
the death of Lodovico's beloved daughter Bianca, the young wife of
Galeazzo di Sanseverino, who died very suddenly at Vigevano, on the
22nd of November. Both the duke and duchess had been fondly attached to
this fair young girl who only four or five months before had become the
wife of Galeazzo, and was one of Beatrice's favourite companions. Her
sudden and premature death threw a gloom over the whole court, and in
elegant verse Niccolo da Correggio deplored the loss of the gentle
maiden who had gone in the flower of her youth to join the blessed
spirits, and grieved for the gallant husband whom a cruel fate had so
early robbed of his bride. There can be little doubt that we have a
portrait of this lamented princess in the beautiful picture of the
Ambrosiana, which, long supposed to be the work of Leonardo, is now
recognized by the best critics as that of Ambrogio de Predis. At one
time this portrait was said to represent Beatrice herself, but neither
the long slender throat nor the delicate features bear the least
resemblance to those of the duchess, while the style of head-dress is
equally unlike that which Beatrice wears in authentic representations.
Again, some critics have supposed the Ambrosian picture to represent
Kaiser Maximilian's wife, Bianca Maria Sforza; but the discovery of
Ambrogio de Predis's actual portrait of the empress, and of his sketch
of her head in the Venetian Academy, have shown this theory to be
impossible. The Venetian Marc Antonio Michieli, who saw this picture in
Taddeo Contarini's house at Venice in 1525, describes it as "a profile
portrait of the head and bust of Madonna, daughter of Signor Lodovico of
Milan," after which he adds, "married to the Emperor Maximilian ... by
the hand of ... _Milanese_." The connoisseur had evidently confused the
two Bianca Sforzas, but now that this mistake has been explained by a
comparison of the Ambrosian portrait with genuine pictures and medals of
the empress, there is no difficulty in accepting the remainder of his
statement. For we have here, there can be little doubt, the portrait of
Lodovico's daughter, by the hand of a Milanese painter, in all
probability, as Morelli divined, the court-painter of the ducal house,
Ambrogio de Predis. And the German critic, Dr. Müller-Walde, is probably
right in his conjecture that the companion picture in the Ambrosiana is
the portrait of Bianca's husband, Galeazzo di Sanseverino. This picture
has been called by many names, and ascribed to many different hands. It
has been described in turn as a portrait of Maximilian, of the
short-lived Duke Giangaleazzo, and of Lodovico Moro himself. But
Ambrogio's portrait certainly represents none of the three, and it is
far more likely that we have here a likeness of the duke's son-in-law,
painted about the time of his marriage to Bianca Sforza. This handsome
man of thirty, in the fur-trimmed vest and red cap, with the dark eyes,
long locks, and refined thoughtful face, touched with an air of
melancholy, may well be the brilliant cavalier who played so great a
part at the Moro's court, the patron of Leonardo and Luca Pacioli, and
the loyal servant of Duchess Beatrice.
Both the duke and his wife were overwhelmed with grief at Madonna
Bianca's death. Lodovico himself wrote to Isabella d'Este that the wound
had pierced his inmost heart, and the duchess and Messer Galeaz both
expressed their grief in touching words. On the 23rd of November,
Beatrice wrote these few sad lines to her sister--
"Although you will have already heard from my husband the duke of the
premature death of Madonna Bianca, his daughter and the wife of Messer
Galeaz, none the less I must write these few lines with my own hand, to
tell you how great is the trouble and distress which her death has
caused me. The loss indeed is greater than I can express, because of our
close relationship and of the place which she held in my heart. May God
have her soul in His keeping!"[64]
[Illustration: Galeazzo Di Sanseverino.
From a painting by Ambrogio de Predis.
(Ambrosiana)
D. Anderson.]
All the _fêtes_ which had been prepared in honour of the emperor's
return to Lombardy were stopped, and the duke and duchess, with their
little son, attended by a small suite of courtiers and ladies, in deep
mourning, travelled by water to Pavia, to receive their illustrious
kinsman when he arrived from Sarzana on the 2nd of December. On this
occasion Maximilian behaved with great consideration, and showed deep
sympathy with his distressed relatives. Instead of making a public entry
through the city, he rode up through the park to the private gate of the
Castello, where the duke and duchess met him and conducted him to his
rooms. Here he spent the evening alone in their company, and refused to
see any one but the little Count of Pavia, for whom he is said to have
cherished great affection. The Venetian envoy, Francesco Foscari,
hearing of the emperor's arrival, hastened to Pavia, and with difficulty
obtained an audience from His Majesty, who told him that it was
impossible for him to visit Milan or remain any longer in Italy, since
the German Diet was about to meet, and he had promised to join his son,
the Archduke Philip, at Augsburg. A council was held in the Castello to
discuss political affairs, but it was plain that the Pisans had nothing
more to expect from their imperial ally, and Maximilian was only anxious
to be back in Germany. On the 4th he attended a solemn requiem mass for
the lamented princess Bianca in the Duomo, and in the afternoon rode out
to the Certosa with Lodovico, who showed him all the wonders of that
famous church and abbey. On the 6th, the duke took his wife, whose
delicate state of health needed rest, back to Milan, and a few days
later returned with Foscari to meet the emperor at the ducal villa of
Cussago. On the 11th, Maximilian went to Groppello, where he knighted
the Venetian ambassador and dismissed him, after which he took leave of
the duke, says the chronicler, with many expressions of affection on
both sides, and once more set out on his journey across the terrible
mountains. His expedition, remarked the Venetian writer, "has effected
nothing, and he leaves Italy in still greater confusion than he found
her."
Lodovico now joined his wife at Milan in time to receive another guest
in the person of Chiara Gonzaga, the widowed Duchess of Montpensier, who
was on her way back from France. Since her husband's death at Pozzuoli,
this unfortunate lady had been vainly trying to recover her fortune from
the French king, and was full of gratitude to the duke for his friendly
exertions on her behalf. Both her sons, Louis de Bourbon and Charles the
famous Connétable, were fighting with the remnants of the French army
against her brother in Naples, and both were to lose their lives in the
wars of Italy, while she herself spent the rest of her existence in
poverty and seclusion at Mantua. But to the last she remained a loyal
friend to Lodovico, with whom she corresponded frequently. On the 22nd,
Chiara left Milan, and the celebration of the Christmas festival began.
But the courtiers and ladies-in-waiting noticed the strange and mournful
forebodings which seemed to oppress their young duchess. They often saw
tears in her eyes, and wondered whether they were caused by her
husband's neglect or grief for the loss of Bianca. Day after day she
paid long visits to the Church of S. Maria delle Grazie, where the
duke's daughter had been laid to rest in this his favourite shrine.
There in those last days of the year Beatrice might constantly be seen,
spending hours in prayer at the tomb of the young princess, and musing
sadly on the vanity of human joys. But no one dreamt how soon her own
end was at hand.
On Monday, the 2nd of January, the Duchess Beatrice drove in her chariot
through the park of the Castello and along the streets of the city to
the Porta Vercellina and the Church of S. Maria delle Grazie, where even
then Leonardo was at work upon his great fresco. In the eyes of the
people who saw her pass, she seemed in excellent health, and returned
their loyal greetings with the same gracious charm. But when she reached
the Dominican church, and had paid her devotions at Our Lady's altar,
and prayed for the repose of her daughter's soul, she lingered by the
new-made tomb, rapt in sorrowful thought, and it was long before her
ladies could persuade her to come away. After her return to the Castello
that afternoon, there was dancing in her rooms in the Rocchetta until
eight o'clock in the evening, when she was suddenly taken ill. Three
hours later she gave birth to a still-born son, and half an hour after
midnight her spirit passed away.
That night, contemporary writers tell us, "the sky above the Castello of
Milan was all a-blaze with fiery flames, and the walls of the duchess's
own garden fell with a sudden crash to the ground, although there was
neither wind nor earthquake. And these things were held to be evil
omens." "And from that time," adds Marino Sanuto, "the duke began to be
sore troubled, and to suffer great woes, having up to that time lived
very happily."
Beatrice was gone, and with her all the joy and delight of the duke's
life had passed away. The court was turned from an earthly paradise into
the blackest hell, and ruin overtook the Moro and the whole realm of
Milan, as the poet of the house of Este sang in his _Orlando Furioso_--
"Come ella poi lascerà il mondo,
Così degli infelici andrà nel fondo."
FOOTNOTES:
[63] Dr. Müller-Walde in _Jahrbuch d. pr. Kunst_, 1897.
[64] Luzio-Renier, _op. cit._, p. 639.