Count Federigo's varied engagements--Battle of La
Molinella--Death and character of his enemy
Malatesta--Affairs of Rimini.
It was to the Pontiff's anxiety for his favourite project against the
Infidel, that the Malatesta owed the shadow of sovereignty still left
them. He inherited from Nicholas V. the design of a holy war; but
though the ten years passed since the peace of Lodi had united the
Italian powers for that purpose, the cross had not yet been raised
against the aggressive and triumphant crescent. He now sought to
redeem delays by redoubled zeal, and his temporal diplomacy seconded
his spiritual exhortations in collecting troops and treasure from
Western Europe, to be mustered at Ancona and led by his Holiness in
person. But, as was shrewdly remarked by Cosimo de' Medici, it was an
old man undertaking an enterprise which needed a young one. He
travelled to Ancona when scarcely recovered from a severe fit of gout,
and on arriving, had the mortification to discover that his ardour had
been ill seconded by most of the Christian powers; that the soldiery,
already disgusted with a service whose rewards were indulgences for
the next world instead of present pay and pillage, were retiring in
great numbers; and that the volunteers who crowded the port, far
beyond the means provided for feeding or transporting them, were a
mere mob of unarmed and undisciplined idlers. Chagrin, anxiety, and
fatigue occasioned a relapse, which carried him off on the 14th of
August.[137] The consistory countermanded the ill-advised expedition,
and the conclave hurriedly chose as his successor the Venetian Barbo,
whose character and habits, in all respects a contrast to those of
Pius, would have been best expressed by Barbaro, but whose absurd
personal vanity is said to have prompted him to propose assuming as
his title Formoso I.
[Footnote 137: Sismondi says the 14th; Harris Nicolas the 15th or
16th; Baldi mentions the morrow of the Assumption, which would be the
16th; but Berni specifies the fourth hour, or midnight of Tuesday the
14th, which corresponds with the calendar of that year.]
The papal throne has seldom been better filled than by Pius II. Gifted
with much practical capacity and intelligence, he brought to it the
experience of a life devoted to diplomacy, statesmanship, and
literature, and he found time to record in historical commentaries,
for the benefit of posterity, his impressions of the many important
incidents wherein he had been an actor or a witness. It is very
remarkable that the last measure of his pontificate, from which he
anticipated its chief lustre, should have been not only opposed to the
spirit of his age, but undertaken without consideration, pursued
without judgment, and terminated in utter failure. To these inherent
errors ought to be ascribed the frustration of hopes in themselves
vain, rather than to the death of his Holiness, as thus set forth by
Sanzi:--
"Ah cruel destiny! unjust and harsh
To Italy's high name, even as her gates
Were opened wide for glory. Doubtful, sure,
And manifold the chances that impede
Such plans as man conceives: the Pontiff died;
And so these gladsome hopes were blotted out,
Whilst all their pomp, and pains, and stores profuse
Were turned to sullen, sluggish discontent."
[Illustration: _Brogi_
PIO II. AT ANCONA
_After the fresco by Pinturicchio in the Cathedral Library, Siena_]
The late Pope, intending to leave Federigo as lieutenant-general,
charged with the defence of the papal state during his absence in the
east, had summoned him to Ancona, and there consulted him both on that
subject and on the projected expedition. Thence the Count proceeded to
Gubbio for the marriage of his relation Guidantonio Ubaldini, and on
the 28th of September repaired to Rome, with a noble suite, to
offer congratulations to the new Pontiff, by whom he was confirmed in
his command, with the title of Gonfaloniere of the Church. After
visiting the King of Naples, he returned home in the end of October,
and in the following autumn had from his Majesty a renewed condotta as
captain-general.[138]
[Footnote 138: Gonfaloniere, originally signifying standard-bearer,
was the title of supreme command in the papal armies, and is so used
throughout these volumes when applied to the dukes of Urbino. In
Florence, and other old republics, it meant the chief magistrate for
the time, and it is still employed in the same sense throughout many
towns, especially in the ecclesiastical states. The gonfalone, or
banner of the Church, was and is now white, with the golden
cross-keys, surmounted by the umbrella-shaped _baldachino_, or canopy,
usually carried over the Pope in processions. This device was borne on
the armorial shields of the Gonfalonieri, impaled between their proper
quarterings, as seen on the stamp outside of these volumes. The golden
keys surmounted by a triple tiara is another common pontifical device,
used in place of a crest.]
The crusade and all its preparations had passed away as completely and
almost as rapidly as a stage-scene, and the quiet of Italy remaining
undisturbed, the new Pontiff availed himself of it to chastise the
Aversi of Anguillera, a band of robber barons whose predatory
incursions extended to the gates of his capital. Although in more
peaceful times this would have been a matter of police rather than a
military movement, it fell to Federigo as gonfaloniere to repress
their audacity. This he did in a few days during July, their
strongholds about Ronciglione all surrendering without a blow. Paul,
encouraged by this success, followed it up by similar proceedings
against the Savelli, another great Campagna family, whose Angevine
policy had led them into open rebellion five years before, and whose
influence never recovered the loss of territory now wrested from them.
The Count, having gone to visit his Holiness, received from him verbal
instructions and a written commission to take effectual measures for
securing the devolution to the Holy See of the Malatesta fiefs, as
soon as these brothers should die, and there being some suspicion of
intrigues on their part to defeat that arrangement under which Cesena
and Rimini had been left them only for their respective lives, a
solemn obligation to secrecy under pain of excommunication shrouded
these deliberations. Thus were pursued those repressive steps adopted
by Pius II., and which were matured into a fixed policy of successive
pontiffs during the next seventy years, until, of all the sovereign
vassals who divided and distracted the ecclesiastical territory, from
Terraccini to the Po, there remained but those of Ferrara, Urbino, and
Piombino. Malatesta Novello of Cesena, whose wife Violante had been
sister of Federigo, died in November, when Cesena was at once seized
by his nephew Roberto, eldest son of Sigismondo. The Count of Urbino,
in obedience to the papal injunctions, marched into Romagna and
blockaded that town, until matters were compromised by a concession of
Meldola to Roberto, on his surrendering the rest of his uncle's fief,
and entering the papal service, as a guarantee for his future
obedience.
Francesco Sforza died suddenly at Milan on the 8th of March. He was
the most sagacious as well as the most fortunate of Italian
adventurers, and as a sovereign conciliated general confidence and
regard by his judicial administration, whilst a liberal and
discriminating encouragement of learning gave to his court and capital
attractions and brilliancy too quickly lost under his dissolute
successor. The first to apply to his country the axiom that union is
strength, it was his cherished aim to cultivate the hitherto neglected
principle of nationality as the mainspring of her policy. The league
of Italy, carried through by him, was the primary step towards that
good end, which was effectually frustrated before the close of this
century by the intemperate and selfish ambition of of his son
Ludovico, and which continues to puzzle the theorists, to mislead the
patriots, and to baffle the politicians of that fair land. His eldest
son Galeazzo Maria being absent in France at his death, the Duchess
sent to request the Count of Urbino's attendance as a tried friend and
comrade of her lord, and as husband of his niece. Federigo,
anticipating the messenger, had already set out on the first news of
so important an event, and by his prudent counsel and conciliating
manners greatly forwarded the harmonious recognition of the new Duke.
During three months he devoted his entire attention to this object,
and before taking his departure, his past efforts were acknowledged,
and his future services retained, by a renewal of his engagement as
captain-general on the following terms:--
"With the approval and benediction of the supreme Pontiff, his Most
Serene Majesty Ferdinand, the noble republic of Florence, and
Ourselves have reunited ourselves in a public confederation, and have
renewed our former league for common protection of our states and
repelling of external aggression, selecting as our chief in command
that illustrious captain and magnanimous lord, the Count of Urbino,
than whom none can be desired more skilful and prompt in the conduct
of war or peace, seeing with what gallantry, authority, and success he
has managed both, and has exhibited such proofs of unequalled faith,
constancy, and integrity, that throughout Italy these are not less in
repute than are his famous feats of generalship."[139] On the 6th of
June, the courts and nobles assembled in the cathedral to witness his
installation, with all the pomp and circumstance of a military
religious ceremonial. After the baton and banner had been placed in
his hand, the goodly cortège conducted him to his lodgings, where a
gallant charger, a beautiful head-piece, and a stately mantle awaited
his acceptance. Two days thereafter he set out on his homeward
journey, which was a continued progress of honour, the sovereigns and
people of each state through which he passed emulating the
compliments they should render to so distinguished a guest.
[Footnote 139: MUZIO, p. 389.]
The treaty of Lodi, to which Sforza had been mainly instrumental,
remained in force at his death; indeed, historians dwell with peculiar
pleasure on the twenty-eight years of tranquillity which succeeded
that settlement. Compared with the turmoil of preceding wars, or with
the clang of battles, which, from 1492 till 1529 rang continually
through the Peninsula, these were, indeed, years of repose and
prosperity, and may be considered the halcyon age of modern Italy. It
is true that those republican institutions had been widely infringed
under which her communities rose to eminence, and that arbitrary
sovereigns had with more or less success established over most of them
a personal or hereditary sway. True also, that her newly awakened
spirit of philosophy had then assumed, under the influence of the
ancient classics, a somewhat unprofitable direction; that "the
all-immortal three" of the preceding century already had raised her
literature to perhaps its culminating point; and that it was not until
the following age that her arts attained their highest perfection. But
whilst individual freedom had been curtailed, individual security had
been generally enlarged; even the despotism of one was welcomed, when
it brought relief from the storms of faction and the tyranny of mobs.
The reviving energies of mind felt the invigoration which succeeds to
long repose, but still glowed with a healthy character, free from that
infusion of meaner motives and more degrading tendencies which too
quickly and permanently poisoned the fairest creations of the pen, the
pencil, and the chisel. Above all, Italy in the fifteenth century was
as yet independent. Her bright plains had not become battle-fields for
European ambition; her treasures had not been plundered, her
civilisation trampled upon, her nationality defaced by foreign and
barbarous invaders.
Yet the pæans of peace inspired by the interval of comparative quiet
upon which we are now entering must be read with poetical allowance,
for we shall have to trace during that period not unfrequent
intrigues, and to mention many, ebullitions of
"The mind of Italy to strife inflamed."
Wherever war was intended, the Count of Urbino's services were
naturally in request, for his name stood foremost on the roll of
condottieri since the death of Giacopo Piccinino in July, 1465. It is
unnecessary to contrast the qualities of these rival generals: the
latter is known to history but as a military adventurer, whilst the
reputation of Federigo rests not less on his conduct as a wise and
generous prince. The Neapolitan war had at length given to Giacopo the
great object of his life. He was sovereign of Sulmona, and his
marriage with the Duke of Milan's natural daughter had strengthened
him in his new rank, and finally closed the long strifes of the
Braccian and Sforzan factions. But fortune, after this signal
exaltation, destined for him a fearful reverse. The false-hearted
Ferdinand forgot not that he had been the right arm of the Angevine
party. Receiving him with hollow courtesy, he amused him at Naples
until Ippolita Maria Sforza, the affianced bride of his eldest son
Alfonso Duke of Calabria, left her father's duchy of Milan. When she
had reached Siena, on her way to be married, Piccinino was
treacherously seized and mysteriously done to death. The impression
was long current that his father-in-law had countenanced this
disgraceful murder, but Rosmini, in his recent history of Milan, has
fully vindicated the memory of Francesco Sforza from a calumny utterly
repugnant to his noble character.[140]
[Footnote 140: RICOTTI (_Storia delle Compagnie di Ventura in Italia_,
1844, vol. III., pp. 191-201) ably reviews the evidence on both sides,
and satisfactorily disposes of an error which had been received during
three centuries and a half.[*D]]
[Footnote *D: Cf. also C.M. ADY, _op. cit._, p. 78, for a well-argued
defence of Sforza.]
The death of Francesco Sforza had been preceded in 1464 by that of
Cosimo de' Medici, whose virtual authority at Florence, earned by his
personal qualities, was exercised tacitly, and cemented by no title,
until FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY was inscribed by the grateful citizens
upon his tomb. These two great men had been allied by common objects
of policy as well as by the sympathy of lofty minds, neither of which
descended to their sons. Pietro de' Medici quickly found that his
father's influence passed not with his name and wealth, whilst his own
pretensions only roused the factious spirit for which Florence enjoyed
an unenviable reputation. It would lead us too far from the immediate
object of these pages were we to analyse the state of parties there
during this crisis, and examine the conduct of leaders, who, under the
mask of patriotism, sought by treachery and assassination to gratify
private ambition, envy, jealousy, and revenge. Even those reformers
who, with purer motives and an unwavering faith in democratic
utopianism, sought to establish public liberty apart from individual
ends, had no better panacea to offer than that of submitting official
appointments to ballot; a singular consequence of the intelligence
and, if we accept the opinions of Sismondi, of the freedom for which
Florence was already preeminent. Two years of caballing concluded with
results common in the republics of classic Greece and mediæval Italy;
the ostracised minority saved themselves by flight, and, in order to
avenge personal wrongs, brought upon their native land the disasters
of foreign invasion, as well as the calamity of native broils.[141]
The Medicean faction remained in the ascendant, and were intimately
allied with Naples and Milan; but the exiles rallied under the winged
lion of St. Mark, and endeavoured by prayers and promises to interest
the Venetians in their behalf, reminding them of the support
perseveringly afforded to their enemy Francesco Sforza by the Medici.
These representations were cordially received by the most jealous of
republics; yet with habitually crooked policy, the Signory, instead of
frankly seconding the Tuscan refugees, nominally discharged Bartolomeo
Colleoni from its service, but secretly aided them to engage him in an
expedition against their country.[142] Colleoni, the last of the old
race of stipendiary commanders, had risen to wealth and reputation,
and had grown grey in years, without ever gaining an important battle.
Mustering once more his veteran followers, and reinforced by several
captains of adventure from Romagna and Upper Italy, he marched at the
head of 8000 horse and 6000 foot through the Ferrarese, intending to
enter Tuscany by the Lamone valley.
[Footnote 141: These intrigues are most succinctly explained by
Pignotti, but Machiavelli and Sismondi may be consulted, as well as
ROSCOE'S _Life of Lorenzo de' Medici_, ch. II.]
[Footnote 142: Machiavelli speaks as if Bartolomeo continued in the
Venetian service, and Roscoe appears to adopt this view; but the best
authorities bear out Sismondi's statement, which I have followed.]
These preparations were viewed at Florence with extreme anxiety.
Pietro, wavering in character and broken in health, seemed unequal to
the crisis; his son Lorenzo, though full of promise, was but eighteen;
the exiles had friends ready to second them at home. The foreign
influence of his house was still however great, and the Dukes of Milan
and Calabria led in person their contingents into the field. The
confederate army was commanded by the Count of Urbino, to whose merits
the following flattering attestation by Ferdinand of Naples is
preserved in the pages of Muzio:--"Amid these warlike movements, and
perils for Italy, it is most satisfactory that we have found a
captain-general whose military skill can rival that of the ancient
times. For, with all deference, who in this age has more fairly taken
arms? who has led armies under happier auspices? whose conduct in
pitched battles or in sieges has been more exemplary? Such questions
are answered by the many honourable trophies he has wrested from the
enemy; by all the cities he has taken, the fortresses he has stormed,
the armies he has routed; by the victories and the booty he has
carried off. Besides, it is notorious that he is not less eminent at
home than abroad, not less excellent in council than in arms. And,
what is still more remarkable, all this superiority is the fruit of
his genius, not less than his prowess, and especially of his good
faith, which, although the basis of every virtue, is the rarest of
them all, and which, almost banished from earth, has taken refuge in
heaven."
The sincerity thus lauded had been recently tested. Vespasiano informs
us that the emissaries of Venice having offered Federigo an
engagement, with 80,000 ducats in war and 60,000 in peace, he simply
reported it to the allies; whereupon they lost no time in arranging
with him a formal condotta, which probably embodied the compliment we
have cited, and which obliged him to serve against all enemies of the
league, the Pontiff not excepted.[143] The Venetian agents had
succeeded better with Astorre Manfredi, Lord of Faenza, in consequence
of whose defection the Count of Urbino early in April marched his own
company into Romagna, in order to persuade or overawe the minor
feudatories of that warlike country into adherence to the
confederates. During three months the two armies were in presence, the
tactics of both being, as was then usual, rather a display of strategy
than a struggle for victory, and the blockade of Faenza by Federigo
proving the only incident worth notice. But this inactivity, though
pleasant and profitable to the stipendiaries, occasioned much
grumbling from those who had to find the sinews of war, especially
from the exiles, whose means were quickly expended. It is alleged, in
justification of the Count's temporising, that the rashness of
Galeazzo Sforza had several times almost compromised the confederates;
that, in order to rid them of his counsels, he was induced to visit
the Medici, on pretexts which are variously stated; and that the
opportunity of his absence was seized by Federigo to fight a pitched
battle on his own terms. Baldi, however, informs us that Colleoni,
having virtually abandoned his designs against Florence, contemplated
an attack upon the Milanese, and that the confederates came into
collision with him whilst intercepting his movement in that direction,
of which they were fully aware.
[Footnote 143: Vat. Urb. MSS. No. 941, printed in the _Specilegium
Romanum_ of Cardinal Mai, I., 94.--Archivio Diplomatico di Firenze,
May 15, 1467.]
Although we have descriptions of many of these mediæval combats from
spectators or actors, their details seldom convey an intelligible idea
of the actual conflicts. Thus, whilst Muzio and Baldi prolixly recount
the inconclusive movements which preceded the engagement, and
introduce tedious harangues as spoken by Federigo to his army, they
throw but little light upon the field manoeuvres. The battle was
commenced early in the afternoon of the 25th of July, by the light
cavalry of Urbino charging the enemy when about to halt for the night;
and although the Count had intended to delay the attack until they
were in the bustle of encamping, he gallantly supported his
skirmishers in two divisions, one led by himself, the other by Roberto
di Sanseverino, general-in-chief of the Milanese forces, whilst a
reserve of cavalry under Donato del Conte was instructed to hover
about, and render aid where required. In the heat of the engagement,
Federigo, with more knight-errantry than prudence, called upon his
brilliant staff, composed of his kinsman the Cavaliere Pietro
Ubaldini, his future son-in-law Giovanni della Rovere, and other
youths of promise, to follow him to the rescue, and, lance in rest,
bore headlong into the _mêlée_. But this ill-timed gallantry had
nearly cost him his life, for a foot soldier, getting under his horse,
inflicted a mortal wound on the animal, and he was not saved without
immense efforts of his own and those around him. The day was intensely
hot, the armies had both marched some miles before they met, and after
fighting for six or eight hours (some say sixteen) without apparent
advantage to either side, Colleoni sent a trumpet to Federigo,
suggesting that, as it was now high time to seek repose, they had
better be done for the day. The staff warmly seconded this proposal,
being three miles from their intended quarters; so by common consent
the troops were recalled, and whilst the soldiery lit torches and
fires, as substitutes for the now deepened twilight, the leaders
mutually advanced to shake hands and congratulate each other on their
escapes. This singular conclusion of what is generally represented as
a well-fought field was quite in accordance with the received rules of
military procedure; but it tempted Machiavelli, the enemy of
stipendiary armies, to sneer at this affair of La Molinella as a
pitched battle, lasting half a day, wherein neither side wavered, and
no one fell, a few prisoners and wounded horses being the only result
of the fray. This is certainly an exaggeration, but though all
characterise the conflict as sanguinary, our authorities differ widely
as to the loss, which probably did not exceed a few hundred men
killed, including, however, several captains of note.[144]
[Footnote 144: RICOTTI, III., p. 208, quotes these authorities. Our
account of the battle endeavours to reconcile the Urbino writers with
the generally received facts. Muzio says above 40,000 men were engaged
in it. Berni estimates the Count's force at eighty-three squadrons of
horse and two thousand foot against ninety-six squadrons and thrice as
many infantry; the killed he states at 500, and the wounded at the
same number, chiefly on the side of Colleoni. The Ferrarese diarist,
speaking of an engagement fought close to his capital, may be
preferred to Machiavelli. He considers the loss on both sides at 500
killed, and 1000 mortally wounded, besides "above 1000 horses ripped
up;" and mentions Saturday, the 23rd of July, as the date of the
battle. Roscoe, in a succinct account of the campaign, cites three
authorities for his facts, but two of these refer to points of
unimportant detail (one of them quoting a recent writer, whose
information is at second hand), while the third establishes a view
entirely passed by in the text. I mention this in no spirit of
cavilling, but to show the inutility of a system of copious and
indiscriminate reference by foot-notes, which, without pretending to
establish every momentous statement, constantly distracts attention
from the continuous narrative. Corio, a contemporary at the court of
Milan, has, by confusing his master's two visits to Florence,
misrepresented this engagement as fought in 1471. He mentions some
incidents of it, one of which, whether accurate or not, is
characteristic of such battles. Federigo, towards the close of the
conflict, meeting Alessandro Sforza, whose daughter he had married,
but who then fought against him, exclaimed, "Oh, my lord and father!
we have already done enough;" to which Sforza replied, "This I leave
you to determine;" whereupon both commanders called off their troops.
Another anecdote represents Galeazzo Maria as severely blaming the
Count of Urbino for not securing a decided victory by a more vigorous
onset; to which the latter replied he was nowise to blame, and would
leave it to any one cognisant of the art of war to say if he had not
proceeded after the rules of military tactics. But so little was the
Duke satisfied with this plea, that, when the Count went afterwards to
visit him at Milan, he threatened to decapitate him, and would have
done so but for the intervention of his secretary Simonetta, a
personal friend of Federigo. The latter, taking the hint, soon
retired, and made the best of his way home. Notwithstanding Corio's
authority, and Galeazzo Maria's impetuous temper, this story appears
apocryphal: see our immediate context, p. 189.]
The peculiar feature of the day was the employment of flying
artillery, gunnery having, till now, been limited to clumsy
battering-pieces, adapted only for sieges and fortifications. The new
weapons called spingards and invented by Colleoni were long swivels,
measuring three cubits,[145] mounted upon carriages, and discharging
balls somewhat larger than a walnut or plum. Although the advantage
has been claimed for the confederates, the battle was a drawn one;
indeed, Colleoni remained upon the field, whilst Federigo led his
exhausted troops to the encampment he had previously resolved on. Yet
the results became equivalent to a victory as regarded the Medici, for
their outlawed opponents, no longer possessing money or credit, were
overlooked in the arrangements for peace which followed early next
year. Galeazzo Sforza having withdrawn most of his troops for
protection of his frontier on the side of Savoy, the autumn was passed
by the armies beating over their former ground about Faenza and Imola,
Federigo vainly anxious, as we are assured, to bring on another
engagement. Finally, sickness and winter terminated a campaign quite
unworthy of the space that has been allowed it by most annalists.
[Footnote 145: So described by Ricotti, who apparently has declined
reducing this measurement to an intelligible quantity. The cubit of
Vitruvius was of six, sixteen, or thirty-six palms, a Roman palm being
nine inches and a half. Dr. Johnson defines the cubit as eighteen or
twenty-one Paris inches. Such want of precision in weights, measures,
and money, occasions constant and often inextricable embarrassment in
mediæval history.]
In one respect, however, it was not unimportant to the Count of
Urbino, for it gave him opportunities of improving an acquaintance
with the youthful Duke of Milan, and of cementing his tried friendship
for the house of Sforza. So long as Colleoni kept the field, he was
watched by the Count, who rightly guessed that, under pretext of the
descent upon Florence, he was ready enough to carry the banner of St.
Mark into the Milanese, should a favourable opportunity offer. Even
after peace was concluded, Federigo remained in Lombardy, and was
employed by Galeazzo Maria on the honourable mission of receiving at
Genoa his bride, Bona of Savoy, on her arrival from the French court,
over which her sister presided. Having conducted her to Milan, the
marriage was celebrated in July, 1468, after which he at length
contrived to repair home. From thence, however, he was speedily
summoned to return, and, as the Duke's captain-general, to take the
field against the Savoyards, and afterwards to reduce Brisella on the
Po, whose inhabitants had attempted to stir up new strife among the
rival powers of Italy. The autumn was well advanced ere these matters
were arranged. Galeazzo presented him with a palace at Milan, and
relying upon his judgment and experience, detained him there during
the winter to assist in organising his state. The arrival of Frederick
III. at Venice early in the year appeared to impose on the Duke, as
his principal feudatory, the duty of a special mission, and Federigo
was selected for that distinction. His object was, however,
misrepresented to the Emperor, who consequently altered his route and
proceeded to Rome for his coronation. On the 1st of March, 1469, the
Count returned to Urbino. Ricotti mentions, as a startling proof of
the low estate to which the imperial authority had now been reduced in
Italy, that the King of the Romans on this occasion asked of Colleoni
a safe conduct for himself and suite, on their way to the nominal
capital of his empire!
During his absence, the detested Lord of Rimini closed his wayward
career. No Italian prince of this century fills so picturesque a niche
in mediæval history; none has more fully realised its worse vices, or
so narrowly escaped its noblest qualities. Bred as a soldier of
fortune, and numbering among his subjects the most martial population
of the Peninsula, his bravery when tested became mere bravado, his
duplicity rendered him a dangerous adherent to any cause. Unbounded
ambition was in him so marked by selfishness, ready talent so clogged
by overweening conceit, that all his efforts and aspirations resulted
in failure, and with the means and opportunities of establishing an
important sovereignty, he left behind him but a shadow of departed
power. His domestic morals were scandalous in an age of notorious
laxity. Not only were his three wives sacrificed to jealousy or
vengeance, but their murders are boastfully alluded to on his monument
in the miserable jest, that although the horns he wore were visible
enough, he had found means to curtail them.[146]
[Footnote 146: Such, at least, is the key afforded by Sansovino to the
obscure couplet inscribed on his tomb in his great edifice of S.
Francesco:--
"Porto le corna ch'ogn'uno le vede,
E tal le porta che non se lo crede."
Baldi asserts for all his wives an unblemished reputation, and charges
him with the murder of but two of them. Mazzuchelli alleges that he
jilted or repudiated the first, and made away with the next two.]
His progeny were all illegitimate, and several of them came to violent
ends. The sole redeeming trait of human kindness that seems to have
softened his harsh and treacherous nature was his affection for
Isotta, whom he raised from obscurity to participate in his
affections, or as some say his rank. However that may have been, she
shares such celebrity as has been conferred on him by the creations of
art and literature which he sedulously patronised, and in which
chiefly his name survives, although their humanising influences left
no impress on his haughty and cruel nature. Mariotti remarks, that "an
Italian prince in those days durst not be a barbarian. A murderer,
perhaps, stained with the most flagitious crimes, he might be; but he
must seek his absolution in works of munificence, he must atone for
his outrages against public morality by his devotion to the cause of
learning and homage to the public taste." So was it with
Sigismondo.[*147] Valturio tells us that he read a great deal, and
often took part in discussions and disputations upon philosophy,
letters, and arts, with a patience of contradiction which honourably
contrasted with his usual outbreaks of temper. At his court were
entertained Porcellio, Basinio, Trebanio, and other Latinist
poetasters, who repaid such hospitality by a meed of fulsome and
long-forgotten doggerel, and celebrated the beauty and accomplishments
of his mistress. Italy could boast of no architect superior to Leon
Alberti, no military engineer more skilful than Valturio: he employed
the former on the church of S. Francesco at Rimini, which marks an era
in the revival of art; the latter, under his auspices, wrote on the
science of war, and exemplified its practice in constructing the
castle of that town: both of these buildings enshrine the name and
munificence of Sigismondo Pandolfo. But the most pleasing memorials of
a prince by name and by nature chief of the _wrong-heads_ (if we may
be pardoned a pun upon Malatesta) are the medallions in bronze struck
for him by Pisani, Di Pastis, and other celebrated medalists, one of
which we here introduce. Zanetti's publication on the mint of Rimini
gives twelve of these without exhausting their number; they preserve
his manly bust and Isotta's matronly features, whilst the sculptures
of S. Francesco familiarise us with the elephant and negro-heads borne
as their respective cognisances.
[Footnote *147: It is perhaps needless to assert the partiality of
this verdict on the life and character of Sigismondo Malatesta. That,
after a considerable study of all the available sources of his life
and times, I have come to a very different conclusion regarding him,
it is perhaps not altogether egotistical to point out. If I send the
reader, then, to my own work on this extraordinary man (_Sigismondo
Malatesta_, by EDWARD HUTTON, Dent, 1906), it is that there is no
other work concerned with him in the English language. As for
Dennistoun, most of what he says, even though it were just in its
conclusions, is inaccurate in detail. To begin with, Sigismondo was
only "detested" by his enemies; the people of Rimini appear to have
loved him, supporting him in his troubles, and loyally standing by his
wife Isotta after his death. His bravery is sufficiently proved by a
thousand encounters, notably that (described at page 150 of my book)
when he outwitted his captors and spent the whole night in a marsh up
to his neck in water; or that in which he set out to kill the Pope in
the Vatican, and would have done so but that he found him surrounded
by cardinals, armed. That his domestic morals were bad, "even in that
age of laxity," I am not eager to deny; but no single crime of this
sort laid at his door, chiefly by his bitterest enemy Pio II., who in
his relations with Sigismondo always seems least himself, can be
proved--I have tried to prove them--and all can be very easily denied.
As for his three wives, which, according to Dennistoun, he "sacrificed
to jealousy or vengeance," it will be sufficient to say that the first
Madonna Ginevra d'Este appears to have died of fever at Villa Scolca
while Sigismondo was besieging Forlimpopoli, and in any case the
d'Este remained his close friends after her death. Neither Clementini
(_op. cit._) nor Battaglini (_op. cit._) nor Broglio, in his
unpublished life, know anything of the supposed murder, which, so far
as I know, was first laid at Sigismondo's door by Pio II., who hated
him for his treachery to Siena. Sigismondo's second wife was Madonna
Polissena, daughter of Francesco Sforza. Again, when she died of
plague in Rimini, Sigismondo was absent in Lombardy. (Cf. CLEMENTINI,
_op. cit._ II., 363, who accuses Pio II. of this second libel also.)
As for his third wife Isotta, who had been his mistress, she outlived
him, and was killed at last, as is supposed, by her stepson Roberto,
in the service of Pope Paul II., who coveted Rimini, and would have
had it but that Roberto outwitted him. What motive Sigismondo can have
had in murdering his two wives, both daughters of powerful houses,
does not appear. To Dennistoun "the sole redeeming trait" in his
character was his love of Isotta; but we, less strict perhaps than in
middle Victorian times, shall always love and honour him as one of the
earliest and most sincere of Italian humanists and patrons of learning
and art, a true lover of beauty and a protector of scholars and poets.
As for the "deification of his paramour" (p. 194), I do not know what
it means; but if it refers to the "Divine" Isotta, it was a common
mode of address in that age: and for the decoration of the Tempio,
they are not pagan gods (alas!), but the planets we see there; they
illustrate a poem Sigismondo wrote in his youth. Dennistoun (note, p.
194) insists that Sigismondo had three wives before Isotta, though
Sismondi would have put him right there. He has been misled probably
by an early betrothal of Sigismondo to the daughter of Carmagnuola,
who, on her father's execution by the Venetians, was repudiated.]
It is remarkable how entirely his virtues and vices, his talents and
tastes, were formed upon the standards of paganism, and one
circumstance alone was wanting to place him on a level with the heroes
of classic times,--that he had been born a heathen. Thus, his selfish
daring, his reckless waste of human life and welfare, needed but the
name of Mars to sanctify them; his unscrupulous and insatiable lust
had been welcome incense at the shrine of Venus; the murder of his
wives and the deification of his paramour found orthodox precedents in
many demigods. So too was it with his encouragement of letters and
art. The verses of his laureates were modelled after the most approved
classical adulation. His architects were employed in the art of war,
his sculptors upon heroic medals and devices commemorative of himself
and his favourite mistress; the church which he built as a monument of
his magnificence is covered with ornaments, emblems, and tombs so
profane in character, that but for its dedication to St. Francis, it
might scarcely have been taken for a Christian shrine.
The latter scenes of his life have a touch of romantic interest
altogether wanting to its more prosperous days. When deprived of
substantial sovereignty, he left the scene of his humiliation, and
turning against the Crescent those arms which had often been arrayed
against the Keys, as a captain of adventure he led the Venetian troops
to encounter the Infidel in the Morea. There he distinguished himself
in 1464-5, and then returned to Italy, bringing, it is said, the dry
bones of Themistios, a Byzantine philosopher, to a court no longer
open for living celebrities of literature. His haughty spirit spurned
all overtures from the Pontiff, who sought to anticipate the
devolution of Rimini to the Holy See by bribing him into a quiet
surrender of it during his life; but abject in misfortune as he had
been arrogant in prosperity, and disgusted at the contrast of his
fallen fortunes, he pined and died before completing his fifty-second
year.[148]
[Footnote 148: According to his epitaph, on the 7th ides, being the
9th of October, 1468. Sismondi, chap. lxxxi., says on the 13th; calls
him father-in-law of Count Federigo; and speaks of his having but two
wives besides Isotta. He certainly had three; while his connection
with the house of Urbino arose from his brother Domenico having
married the sister of Federigo, and his son Roberto espousing a
daughter of that Count. Nothing can be more terse and graphic than the
sketch of his character by Pius II. in his _Commentaries_, book II.,
p. 51.]
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF LEON BATTISTA ALBERTI
_From the relief by Pisanello in the Dreyfus Collection_]
The death of Sigismondo without legitimate male issue inferred the
lapse of his fief to the Church, and this devolution was expressly
stipulated by his convention with Pius II. in 1463. But Isotta,
finding herself in possession of Rimini, and personally popular with
the citizens, asserted an alleged bequest of its late lord in favour
of his son Sallustio, and stood on the defensive. Nor was this unequal
resistance hopeless. The neighbouring feudatories were necessarily
opposed to ecclesiastical rights that greatly infringed the value of
their own tenure. Venice regarded with jealousy any extension of papal
influence in Romagna, and was ever ready, for her own ends, to support
the petty princes there. Relying, therefore, on external support,
Isotta closed the gates when summoned in name of the Pontiff, and the
people, proud of their independence and abhorring provincial
insignificance, seconded her resistance. Roberto, the eldest of
Sigismondo's bastards, was in the papal service on the confines of
Naples, and on him Paul fixed as the instrument for attaining his
object without a contest. Summoning him to his presence, he assumed an
air of patronising interest, and by large promises induced him to
repair to Rimini, and so contrive that the ecclesiastical troops
should be quietly admitted. Heir of his father's duplicity though not
of his rights, Malatesta lent himself to this intrigue with a secret
view to his personal ends, and after binding himself by hand and seal
to the Pope's stipulations, he early in January entered the city in
disguise. No guest could have been less welcome to Isotta, but at a
juncture so delicate she was content to dissemble, and accept his
amicable professions.
Federigo's condotta in the papal service had just expired, leaving him
free to consult the dictates of policy, his views as to which were
stated in an appeal to Pietro de' Medici on behalf of Rimini, in words
which may almost be deemed prophetic. "I am constrained to believe
that the Pontiff and the Venetian Signory intend to occupy Rimini and
all Romagna, and eventually Bologna too. Rimini once lost, the rest
will readily follow, and your lordship and the league may easily
suppose where Bologna and Imola would then be. Those who will not
resist such projects at first may have afterwards to pay a
hundredfold, and God grant that it be then to good purpose." He
proceeded in person to Milan in order to urge these considerations
upon Galeazzo Maria, to whom they came with greater cogency as he had
purchased Imola from the Manfredi. Whilst there he favourably received
overtures from Roberto, and arranged a new confederation of Milan,
Florence, and Naples for the independence of Rimini, of which he was
general-in-chief, with a command for Malatesta. The latter, now
throwing off all disguise, wrote to the Pope his best excuses for
resiling from his engagement, and, after persuading Isotta to retire
out of harm's way, proclaimed himself seigneur of Rimini.[*149]
[Footnote *149: Roberto murdered Isotta. With the assistance of the
Pope and Federigo of Urbino he had set out to win Rimini--for himself,
as it proved. Once within the walls he first befriended Isotta,
finding her too strong in the affections of the people to oppose
openly. On August 8, 1470, Sallustio was found dead in a well
belonging to the Marcheselli in Rimini, and within the year Isotta
died also, of poison, as was believed, for Valerio, her second son,
was openly slain by Roberto not long after.]
The contest which ensued was one of the many paltry "squabbles for
towns and castles" which ever recur in restless Italy, to distract the
historian without affording him materials for a stirring episode. The
league were bound to bring up a considerable force of cavalry in their
respective proportions, but their hearts were not in a cause where
they had to support the weaker side, and ere they took the field,
Alessandro Sforza, at the head of the ecclesiastical troops, had
carried the suburbs of Rimini and reduced the city to great
straits.[150] Federigo, after repeated efforts, persuaded the
Neapolitan contingent to risk a march through the enemy's country,
whereupon Sforza fell back from the leaguer to provide for his own
defence. This movement was, however, but of partial benefit to
Malatesta, for, as the allies were bound only to defensive operations,
they withheld their assistance beyond maintaining him in the limited
state of which his father died possessed. Such trifling, and the
do-little tactics by which it was supported, scarcely consisted with
the exigence, for though the cause was at first unimportant, the
disgust and indignation felt by Paul at being outwitted by an almost
beardless boy led him to entertain vast schemes of vengeance,
extending to the partition of Romagna with his countrymen of Venice,
and to a new war for the Neapolitan succession.
[Footnote 150: The following dispatch by the Count to the priors of
Siena, from Urbino, the 27th of July, before the confederates had
appeared, proves how unimportant were the proceedings of the siege.
"Since I last wrote your lordships, nothing new has occurred beyond
some attempts by the besiegers of Rimini, to which those of the town
offered such resistance that they proved fruitless, indeed, rather
detrimental. It also happened, by a sudden and unexpected chance, that
the barks and armed vessels which blockaded the town were dispersed
and scattered; one if not two of them are known to have foundered, but
nothing further has yet been heard of their fate."--Archiv. Diplom. at
Siena.]
The movement of Sforza to Vergiliano, a few miles west of Rimini, had
virtually raised the siege, and the confederates lay round Cerasolo,
about the same distance to the south. Matters were now at a dead-lock,
for the actual territory in dispute being thus cleared of papal
troops, the allies had no pretext for aggressive operations, although
Roberto was obviously exposed to destruction should they withdraw,
which they showed every disposition to do. In order to bring matters
to a point, Federigo informed Malatesta that it was for him to attack;
and as his tiny garrison could effect nothing beyond a predatory
incursion on the papal territory, it was concerted that he should
assail Mulazzano, whilst the Count sent some troops to protect Rimini.
The scheme succeeded to their hearts' content, for Sforza, moved by
complaints from the menaced villages, quitted his position in order to
check the marauders and occupy new ground within reach of Mulazzano.
Federigo, informed of this intention, foresaw that he would encamp,
at all events pass, near his cantonments, and prepared to give him
battle. It was not without opposition that he obtained the approval of
his languid supporters, but having done so, he thus harangued his
troops:[151] "Soldiers! I have good news for you. The enemy have a
fancy to water their horses in that stream where we water ours, and
for this purpose have resolved to encamp right opposite us. If you
would know why I take this for so good news, I shall tell you. I know
that you all ply the trade of arms in order to gain you honour and
advantage; and if the enemy come, as I have said, I shall lead you
where each of you will have equal opportunity of displaying his
gallantry. Take no thought that they outnumber you, for victory is
gained by valour and not by multitudes, and the more they are, the
greater your glory and plunder. I already know well your bravery, and
you should have no doubts when I promise you so sure a victory, since
that I see how it is to be won. This much I can say, that I even now
feel as ample satisfaction in the triumph which I anticipate from your
valour as if it were already gained; yet for your satisfaction I have
something to add. They are coming to make a lodgment without an idea
of opposition, and therefore fool-hardily and incautiously; we shall
thus probably find them in disorder, whilst we are fully prepared for
action. At all events we shall come upon them encumbered by baggage
and disheartened, which affects both mind and body; and being
ourselves in light order and prepared for battle, the advantage must
be all with us. Should they fancy returning whence they came, we shall
let them see what it is to show their backs to an enemy. One way or
other the victory will be ours, and besides having my word you may
assure yourselves of it, for it is in your own hands."
[Footnote 151: We have spared our readers the numerous orations with
which Baldi, emulating the style of Livy, has interpolated his
narrative. This one is taken from Muzio, and may be a fair specimen of
the eloquence then in use on similar occasions.]
The battle took place on the 29th or 30th of August, on ground
selected by Federigo. During three hours the enemy vainly sought to
make an impression on his position, at the end of which time Roberto
came up with some fresh battalions, and the papal forces began to
retire. Whereupon the Count, rushing forward, exclaimed to his men, "I
promised you that, should the enemy give signs of retreat, you would
make them feel what it is to show heels, and I must keep my word. At
them now! and having maintained your ground against their attack, does
not this encourage you to set upon them when flying? Come merrily on
with me, who promise you a glorious and dashing victory!" Their flight
soon became a rout; the confederates, pursuing in good order, carried
the ecclesiastical camp by a _coup-de-main_, and were rewarded by
immense booty. The enemy, who considerably outnumbered them, were
scattered to the winds, the leaders seeking shelter in various towns
of Romagna. Though the dead did not exceed a few hundreds, a vast
number of horses, standards, artillery, and prisoners were taken,
including many captains of note. Muzio thinks it necessary to defend
Federigo for this victory, as scarcely within the stipulated object of
the league, that of resisting aggressions upon Roberto's proper
territory of Rimini; and it was perhaps from a consciousness of this
objection that he adopted the very unusual course of dismissing all
prisoners without ransom, after an oration on the chances of war, and
his personal regret at being called upon to draw the sword against his
ecclesiastical over-lord. Such a course was, however, consistent with
his general feelings and practice; and there now occurred an
opportunity for the special manifestation of his generosity. Count
Gian Francesco of Pian di Meleto, who, though a subject of
Montefeltro, had been ever a partisan of Sigismondo Pandolfo, and a
personal foe of Federigo, was on this occasion in the pay of
Alessandro Sforza, and, being captured on the fall of his horse, was
with difficulty rescued by Federigo himself from the summary
punishment intended by his exasperated adherents. When the battle was
over, he and his son were summoned by the victorious general, and
while awaiting the sentence befitting their treason, were thus
addressed by their over-lord: "Count, this will be evil news for your
wife, and it would be right to console her by tidings of your welfare
and her son's. It is therefore my pleasure that you both be the
bearers of them to her." He then dismissed them home with an escort.
Federigo's commission being now effectually fulfilled, and having no
warrant for pursuing the war into the papal territory, he retired to
Urbino, leaving Roberto in the field to follow up the recent victory.
Although blamed for wavering during the early part of the battle, in
order to fall back upon Rimini had its fortune been adverse, the
latter was not slow to profit by its results, and ere November he had
re-established the Malatestan sovereignty over the whole fiefs of
Rimini and Fano, as well as part of the vicariat of Sinigaglia.
The first fruit of Federigo's triumph was a very flattering commission
from the Duke of Milan as lieutenant-general of his state, accompanied
with 10,000 golden ducats in payment of his claims upon Francesco
Sforza. But ere long there broke out those jealousies which
chronically afflicted all Italian confederacies. The contingents of
Milan and Florence, arriving too late for the battle, shared neither
its glory nor its spoils, which thus fell in a great measure to the
Neapolitans, whose sovereign was already regarded with no friendly eye
by the haughty Lombard Prince. The liberality of the latter to the
Count of Urbino was but a covert bribe to alienate him from the
league, and secure his undivided services, but it was unavailing
against the prior and long-established claims of the house of Aragon.
Thus thwarted, Galeazzo Maria withheld from Federigo his quota of the
pay promised by the allies, namely 70,000 scudi in war, and half as
much in peace, and refused to contribute with them to the expense of
maintaining Roberto in Rimini. This ebullition of temper, dictated by
no animosity against Federigo, occasioned a diet of the powers at
Florence, which, however, failed to arrange their differences. Pietro
de' Medici being dead, his influence had descended to his more
talented son, who, finding that the wily Venetians were courting a
separate treaty with Ferdinand, hastened to urge upon his allies the
importance of sinking minor differences, and maintaining the league as
the best guarantee for the repose of Italy. These representations had
due weight. The confederacy was renewed, and a peace concluded in
December with the Pope, provided to Roberto all the territory of which
his father died possessed. The following letters of Federigo to the
Signory of Siena testify his interest in these arrangements, the
bearings of which on the policy of Italy and Europe have been ably
stated by Sismondi in his eighty-first chapter.
"I believe your lordships have learned the rupture of the
most serene and illustrious league, and how this came about,
whereat I feel the utmost dissatisfaction and regret. Not
that I have on my own part to lament any want of such
exertion and action for its continuance and union as my duty
demanded, but that fortune so willed it. Yet I entertain a
hope and assurance that the peace of Italy will not thereby
be compromised; indeed matters may, as often happens, turn
out eventually better than they were at first." [May 8,
1470.]
"Mighty and potent Lords, dearest Fathers,
"Your lordships' letters by this courier have afforded me
much pleasure, as they must ever in all circumstances do,
but especially when it is in my power to perform something
acceptable to your lordships, or to comply with any request
of yours. I am well assured, as your lordships observe, that
you are fully informed up to this time of the transactions
among the Italian powers, and of the difficulties that have
arisen; of these, therefore, I need say nothing. I do not
understand that as yet matters have assumed a definite
shape, or been finally decided upon; although it is quite
possible that something has been concluded at Naples, where
the ambassadors of all these states are assembled, but there
has not yet been time for me to hear of it. Thus much I may,
however, say to your lordships, that I hope things will at
all events issue in a satisfactory peace, towards which
these views of the Turk ought to incline every one, for all
tempers, however rough or obdurate, ought at this juncture
to yield and bend for the general advantage of the Christian
religion. I am also able to assure your lordships that your
republic and its honour and character must derive quite as
much satisfaction, utility, and benefit from peace and
tranquillity as any other community, seeing the affection
generally entertained for it, especially by the serene King.
I commend myself to your lordships. From Urbino, the 7th of
July, 1470.
"FEDERIGO COUNT OF MONTEFELTRO, URBINO, AND DURANTE."[152]
[Footnote 152: From the original in Italian in the Archivio
Diplomatico at Siena.]
The duplicity of Italian diplomacy has passed into a proverb, and by
none was it more constantly practised than by the successors of St.
Peter. The investiture of Roberto, although a specific stipulation of
the new league, was constantly evaded by Paul, until, after months of
procrastination, death released his Holiness from the engagement. His
successor, Sixtus IV., was a friend of Federigo and of the Neapolitan
Monarch, and through their mediation Malatesta obtained prompt
performance of the obligation. Thus established in a seigneury, long
the heritage of bastards, Roberto allied himself more intimately with
the Count of Urbino, by espousing, on the 28th of March, 1472, his
daughter Elisabetta (or Isabella, for the names were synonymous), then
about nine years old; and thus were happily closed the long feuds of
these rival races.[153]
[Footnote 153: Her mother having been then married but eleven years,
Berni is palpably wrong in calling the bride nineteen. Three years
appear to have intervened between this betrothal and the nuptials,
that the bride might attain the age of puberty. Roberto Malatesta had
from his contemporaries the appellation of Magnifico, in common with
others of like station. The authorities quoted by Roscoe (ch. ii.,
note 49), as proving this distinction to have been special to Lorenzo
de' Medici, are comparatively modern, and do not countervail repeated
instances of its adoption by personages of much less mark. Neither is
Sismondi correct in considering it a generic title of such princes as
possessed no other.]
[Illustration: POPE SIXTUS IV.
_From a miniature prefixed to the dedication copy of Platina's Lives
of the Popes in the Vatican Library_]
In writing to the Signory of Siena regarding the election of Sixtus,
Federigo says "there could not have been a choice more worthy, better,
or more consonant with the requirements of the Christian religion." We
shall ere long have ample means of testing the accuracy of this
opinion. Under its influence he attended the coronation, the splendour
whereof is described by a spectator in these somewhat inflated terms:
"The only news I have to tell you is about the triumphant and
unexampled honours paid by all Italy to the new Pontiff, a detailed
account of which would be more proper for history than suited to a
letter. Your renowned Federigo surpassed all others in magnificence
and pomp, the number of his mettlesome chargers, with their rich
trappings and housings, astonishing every one. So perfect was the
order, so effective the marshalling of the nobles, knights, pages, and
select attendants who surrounded him, that on him were centred the
eyes of all. In front of the procession the crash of clanging trumpets
rang through the sky, nearer the centre the ear was soothed by the
sweeter melody of flutes, whilst in the rear bells tinkled an
accompaniment to the dulcet harmony of voluptuous lyres. Every one
was dressed in gold, silver, silk, or some such precious stuff. On the
necks and head-gear of many sparkled oriental gems, and the number of
collars, necklaces, and bracelets exceeded what all Italy might have
been expected to produce. But supereminent and conspicuous above the
others was the Crown Prince of Naples, a very Absalom, borne on a
proud and prancing charger, and wearing a scarf radiant with gold and
pearls. When the cortège reached the Piazza di San Celso, and crowned
the bridge, the heavens seemed to bellow and shake from explosions of
artillery in the castle of St. Angelo, startling the fretted steeds,
whose bounding movements were truly beautiful. The streets, squares,
porticos, and windows were insufficient to contain the spectators."[154]
[Footnote 154: Letter of Matteo Bosso, quoted by Riposati, I., 409.]
It was about this time that the hospitalities of Urbino were called
into exercise by the arrival of unusual guests. The sceptre of Persia
had been usurped by an adventurer, whom Italian writers have generally
named Usum-cassan,[155] and whom the far-seeing policy of Venice had
some fifteen years before induced to attack the Asiatic Turks. So
useful an ally was conciliated by Calixtus V., as well as by the
Maritime Republic; and in 1471 the oriental despot sent an embassy to
confirm his relations with these powers, and obtained from them some
artillery to be employed against the common enemy. His envoys, after
being laden at Venice with those rare and magnificent gifts which
their ramified commerce enabled its merchant princes to command,
visited several petty courts in their way to Rome and Naples. Their
arrival at Urbino was commemorated by the singular compliment of
introducing their portraits, along with that of the Count, into an
altar-picture executed by Justus of Ghent for the fraternity of Corpus
Christi. Of this work we shall have to speak in our thirtieth chapter:
it still hangs in the church of Sta. Agata,[*156] and represents the
celebration of the Last Supper in the manner of the Romish communion,
the Count and the Persian envoys figuring as spectators. In departing,
they carried with them a complimentary letter in Latin from Federigo
to their master, which mentions that it was written at their request.
[Footnote 155: So written by Pietro Bizarro, whose _Historia Rerum
Persicarum_ is our chief authority for these circumstances. The letter
of Federigo (Urb. Vat. MSS. No. 1198) has Asanbech Kan; it is also
written Uzun Hassan Bey. The picture is mentioned in PUNGILEONE,
_Elogio di Giovanni Santi_, pp. 11 and 64.]
[Footnote *156: The picture is now in the Pinacoteca.]
The princely manner of welcome already established at this mountain
court, which in after generations became proverbial for magnificent
hospitalities, may be learned from the visit of Borso, Marquis of
Ferrara, who, in March, 1471, while passing to Rome, spent four days
at Urbino and Gubbio, with an escort of 500 horsemen, 100 on foot, and
150 mules. He was immediately thereafter made Duke by Paul, who
signalised his elevation by a hunting-field on the most exaggerated
scale. Berni tells us that it brought together about 25,000 people,
and that among the returns of slaughter were 100 oxen, and as many
calves. Ere a few months had passed, the Pontiff and the Duke were
numbered with the dead; the former died unregretted, but the mild sway
of the latter passed into a proverb, "the time of Duke Borso" being
long quoted in contrast with that of less popular sovereigns. During
next year another remarkable guest arrived. Pietro Riario, the new
Pontiff's favourite nephew, having been raised by him to the purple,
and appointed legate of all Italy, made a pompous progress throughout
the provinces thus placed under his nominal jurisdiction.[*157] He was
met on the frontier by the Count, accompanied by the Lords of Faenza,
Rimini, and Pesaro, with a noble following, and conducted to the
palace of Gubbio, Federigo and his nephew Ottaviano della Carda
leading the palfrey of this proud parvenu. The name of Pietro will
recur in our thirty-first chapter; meanwhile we may cite the sketch of
him preserved to us by Giovanni Sanzi in reference to this visit.
[Footnote *157: I am in some doubt here. Guerriero says (see _op. cit.
supra_, p. 21) that on 27 April, 1472, the Cardinal [Bessarione]
Niceno, called the Cardinal Greco, came to Gubbio on his way into
France as Legate. "Fo de lunedì. Foli facto grande honore. Stecto in
Ugubio tucto el martedì et in quello dì cresimò el figliolo piccino
del Signor Conte con grande festa, el mercoledì partì ... laso ...
certe indulgentie al sepulcro novamente facto in la fraternità di
Bianchi in Ugubio." As to Pietro Riario, I can find nothing; but it
may well have been as Dennistoun says.]
"He was a man, if well his mind I wot,
Magnanimous but lavish; to his friends
Most generous and liberal; to the learned
A patron kind, though indiscriminate.
The locust well might typify his life:
In youth a friar, but no longer bent
On things of such high import, now he deemed
Himself all but supreme. Yet of his deeds
No record lives in prose or lofty song,
No fame but of a splendour all apart
From churchman's calling, more offensive still
To laymen. Thus elate and arrogant
(For pride of place the youthful heart corrupts),
His whim it was through Italy to speed
In gorgeous array, till sudden death
Snatched him from these delights....
Just as a locust by the sun struck down,
So perished in their prime his fancies vain,
Despite the projects hatched beneath the shade
Of his red hat."