Leonardo felt the same way about a “submarine” that he presented to the

Councilors and Tribunal of Venice. This resembled a turtle’s shell with

a raised bump on the center which was the “periscope.” When submerged

the water probably rose to an area just around the “periscope,” but,

again, the information about its air-supply is missing and the only

reference to it is a reminder to close the “l—.” In addition, he

invented a system of screws mounted in tongs with the borer in the

middle for putting holes in the bottoms of enemy ships, and at the same

time he thought of a defense against such an attack by designing the

defending vessels with double hulls.

Among Leonardo’s other maritime devices were designs for boats that

could dredge canals, harbors, and lagoons. What was the result of all

these plans? We do not know. Whether any one of them was used against

the Turks is a mystery.

At any rate, Leonardo and Pacioli left Venice that same spring and

arrived in Florence in April of 1500. One of the purposes of Leonardo’s

journey was to visit his father who was now living on Via Ghibellina

with his fourth wife. Leonardo was now forty-eight. Still tall and

straight with the strength of his youth, his face prematurely aged and

his hair thinning back from his high forehead, Leonardo was more than

ever an outstanding looking man. He still scorned fashionable clothes

and dressed according to his own comfort which made him even more

noticeable among the crowd. His deep-set eyes with their direct and

penetrating glance, framed by his full, reddish beard, never missed a

thing, although he now wore spectacles at his work.

Now that he was back in Florence, Leonardo needed lodgings and a job. He

had banked his small savings, and he did not want to touch that. His

father’s house with the five children of his present wife plus the sons

from his previous marriages was too full to accommodate Leonardo.

Moreover, the relationship between Piero and Leonardo was polite but

distant, as Piero preferred the children of his later marriages.

Luckily, the place to live and the commission Leonardo needed presented

themselves at the same time. The Church of the Annunciation of the

Servite Order of Monks needed an altarpiece, and, as Leonardo’s fame was

great, they offered him and his apprentice quarters in the monastery.

Here, in the solitude of a monastic cell, Leonardo was able to return to

his own researches. His long association with Fra Luca Pacioli continued

as they worked together on Pacioli’s edition of Euclid’s _Elements_. At

the same time, with his absorption in geometry, Leonardo commenced his

studies of the transformation of solids; that is, changing the shape of

something to another shape without diminishing or increasing its

substance.

In his preoccupation with geometry, Leonardo had apparently done little

about the commission which the Servite monks had given him. He finally

yielded to their complaints, however, and commenced to draw the

preliminary study for the subject, which was “St. Anne with the Virgin

and Child.” Again his knowledge of geometry is most apparent in the

finely constructed composition, every gesture of which is as plotted as

a geometric exercise. In April of 1501, the drawing was finished; it

caused an immediate sensation throughout Florence. For two days the

public was allowed to pass in front of it.

But now a change was taking place in Leonardo. He was no longer content

with simply painting. His highly original researches for pictures had

slowly grown to the point where the research was more important than

painting. In a sense the scientist had taken the brush from the artist.

In two letters from Isabella d’Este’s emissary in Florence we learn, “He

is entirely wrapped up in geometry and has no patience for painting.”

This excerpt from a letter dated April 8, 1501, was followed six days

later by another which said in part, “In brief, his mathematical

experiments have made painting so distasteful to him that he cannot even

bear to take up a brush.”

A few months after the completion of the St. Anne drawing, Leonardo

received a letter signed by Cesare Borgia, Duke of Valentinois. Leonardo

frowned and thought back to his last days in Milan. When King Louis XII

of France had entered the city, he had summoned the painter of the “Last

Supper” to an audience. The king had been generous in his praise and had

tried to persuade Leonardo to remain. At that same audience had also

been Cesare Borgia, an ally of the French. Leonardo remembered the man

now—the dark hair and eyes, the black, arched eyebrows, and the face

marked by some old disease. He was a powerful-chested, thin-hipped man

who had originally been made a cardinal by his father, Pope Alexander

VI. But the attractions of secular power soon persuaded him to abandon

this title. With the enthusiastic help of his father, Borgia had fought,

murdered, and deceived his way to a formidable position of authority in

these last years. Leonardo, in the seclusion of the monastery, had

lately heard that Borgia’s army had even been at the gates of Florence.

The letter addressed to Leonardo was an offer to assume the post of

Architect and Military Engineer to His Excellency, Cesare Borgia. He

thought of Ludovico Sforza—defeated and captured at the battle of Novara

just a year ago as he attempted to regain his dukedom. Now the duke was

a prisoner at Loches in Touraine; Leonardo had written of him, “The duke

lost his State, his personal possessions and his liberty, and none of

his enterprises have been completed.” And Leonardo also thought of his

equestrian monument still standing in the castle being used for target

practice by the French archers. Like the duke, nothing of his own had

been completed either. Perhaps this Borgia offer was an opportunity.

Leonardo decided to accept it.

In May of 1502, after having presented himself to Cesare Borgia in Rome,

Leonardo began his hectic travels through Tuscany and Umbria. He was to

inspect the fortresses and cities of Cesare’s new conquests there, and

to make whatever recommendations he felt necessary for their

improvements. Arriving in Piombino, he at once set down a project for

draining the marshes and reclaiming the land. Also, while he was here,

he spent hours by the sea watching the waves curl in from the Adriatic

and studying the crash of water over the beaches. Moving on to Arrezzo,

he drew up the first in a series of remarkable maps for the army of

Vitellozzo which, with the backing of Cesare Borgia, was marching

against Florence. These maps are bird’s-eye views of Tuscany and Umbria,

and somewhat resemble modern aerial photographs. Drawn from Leonardo’s

own observations, the green mountains stand, according to their height,

in relief, with the roads winding over them and down through the

valleys. The streams and their tributaries are in blue and even the

villages and cities are drawn with great exactitude. Indeed Leonardo had

learned his lessons from old Toscanelli well, and he was one of the

first to bring the art of cartography to such perfection.

In July and August Leonardo was in Urbino and Pesaro, and by the 8th of

August he had reached Rimini. Here he strengthened the fortifications

and then rode quickly on to Cesena. Between Cesena, capital of the

Romagna, and Porto Cesanatico, he spent from the middle of August to

September planning a canal between the two, redesigning government

buildings, and drawing up a new quarter to be built for the city of

Cesena. At this time he constructed an instrument for telling him the

speed of water currents in a stream. It told him whether the flow was

swifter at the surface or at the bottom or on one side or the other of

the stream’s bed.

In the meantime, Florence, alarmed at the growing power of Cesare

Borgia, appealed to Charles d’Amboise, Regent of Milan for France, to

come to her aid. Charles responded in the absence of the French King and

helped to protect Florence. The enemies of Cesare took advantage of this

to form an alliance, and soon Cesare was being forced back from his

newly won possessions. Cesare himself then hastened to Milan, and there

he suddenly came face to face again with Louis, the King of France, who

was on his way to Naples. Borgia, who could exert great charm and

influence when he wished, persuaded the king that, all rumors to the

contrary, he, Cesare, was fighting the enemies of France. Again he won

over the French, which greatly strengthened his position. Then, from

Pavia, he issued a decree placing every facility possible at Leonardo’s

disposal. In addition, he instructed all officials to help Leonardo in

every matter, referring to him as “our highly esteemed court architect.”

While Leonardo was in Porto Cesanatico, a delegation from Bayzid II,

Sultan of Turkey, paid a visit to Cesare Borgia. Among other things the

delegation was looking for an engineer to build a bridge between

Constantinople and Pera to replace a temporary wooden structure.

Leonardo designed for them a single-arched bridge with double ramps at

either end (looking very much like a present-day “thruway” entrance). He

provided that it should be approximately twelve hundred feet long,

eighty feet wide, and one hundred and forty feet above the water.

[Illustration: _Da Vinci’s proposed bridge from Constantinople

(Istanbul) to Pera. Looking very much like a modern “thruway”

entrance, it was to have double ramps on both sides._]

In his travels through the countryside, Leonardo could not help but

notice how primitive the mills were. Feeling how strongly the wind blew

in from the sea, he designed a windmill with a roof that turned with the

sails. For the mechanism inside he devised a band brake—a semicircle of

wood into which the large cogwheel of the mill was forced. This mill

resembles the “Dutch” mills of the Netherlands and was among the first

of its type to be brought into existence.

In the fall Leonardo was at Imola. There he created another of his

beautifully rendered maps. He drew this with the help of a magnetic

compass of his own invention. It consisted of a board with an arc on it

and a compass needle, and was probably the first magnetic needle on a

horizontal axis. This time the map was of the city itself, the walls,

the castle and the principal buildings all touched with color and the

river winding through the fields. Drawn in the shape of a circle, it

resembles a view through a telescope from directly above. In Imola, too,

he met Niccolò Machiavelli, the famous historian and political

scientist, who was an emissary from the Signoria, the Council which now

governed Florence. These two men became friends and, later,

collaborators in Leonardo’s scheme to make the Arno river navigable to

the sea.

At this time Cesare Borgia, having achieved great success in his

military campaigns and confident of his conquests, decided to return to

Rome. With the disbanding of Borgia’s headquarters at Imola, Leonardo’s

duties were finished. Together with his new friend Niccolò Machiavelli

and two other Florentines, he left Imola and the service of Cesare

Borgia to return to Florence.

In January of 1503, a mathematician named Giovanni Battista Danti

attempted a flight in a machine that he had designed. This flight was

part of the entertainment at a wedding reception in Perugia. Danti

climbed into his apparatus on top of the tower of St. Mary of the

Virgin. It was pushed off into the air, hovered a few seconds, then

began slowly drifting toward the ground. But suddenly, one of its wings

hit a building projection and it crashed. Danti was carried away with a

broken leg.

The news of the event traveled quickly to Florence.

When Leonardo heard about it, he eagerly questioned all those who had

either seen it or had heard it described first hand. Danti’s attempted

flight excited Leonardo for now he realized that he was no longer alone

in his search. With a sense of urgency he returned to the problems of

flying. He felt now that the solution to flight might be in the swift

gusts of air through the ravines and the spread wings of the eagle

drifting high in the sky.

10

_Shattered Hopes_

Before Leonardo could return to the problem of flight, however, he was

again faced with the necessity of supporting himself and his growing

household. The small fees he received for taking on apprentices hardly

covered the cost of housing and feeding them. Moreover, the equipment he

had to buy for his scientific researches added further to his strained

budget. So, when a servant from Francesco del Giocondo, a rich

Florentine merchant, presented himself at the gate with the request that

Leonardo accept a commission to paint Francesco’s wife, Leonardo was

only too glad to accept. The name of Francesco’s wife was Madonna Lisa,

or Mona Lisa for short. Leonardo painted her portrait on and off for the

next three years. Thus, what started as a minor commission ended as the

one painting—in addition to the “Last Supper”—that most people today

associate with the name of Leonardo da Vinci.

Having secured this work, Leonardo turned back to his studies of birds

in flight and the nature of air. The soaring wings of eagles and hawks

and the way they rode the currents with hardly a dip of their spread

wings guided Leonardo’s thinking from pure mechanics to machines that

act more on the principle of the glider. He proposed to write a treatise

on the nature of birds’ flight, and, with his usual thoroughness, he

began to weigh, dissect, and reconstruct various types of birds and

their wing structure. He realized that one of the main difficulties of

gliding was maintaining balance, or, more accurately, maintaining the

center of gravity. From previous observations Leonardo had noted that

man is capable of making the same motions that a bird does. He had also

measured the strength of a man’s legs and had calculated that man has

twice the power in his leg muscles that he needs for standing.

Consequently he began to redesign his machine making use of man’s arms

and legs to operate or “flap” the wings instead of standing him on a

platform.

The first of Leonardo’s new designs was a sort of harness apparatus

strapped across the shoulders of the flyer who was supposed to be able

to keep himself balanced by moving the lower part of his body. He could

manipulate the flight by handles that were connected to the flexible,

outer parts of the wings. These wings were designed from the webbed

wings of the bat. Surprisingly enough, this device closely resembled the

experimental gliders used by Otto Lilienthal almost four centuries later

in Germany.

Leonardo was now approaching other solutions to pure flight when further

hostilities interrupted his work. Florence and Pisa were in bitter

rivalry, and their struggle had assumed the proportions of a major war.

The Florentine army was now practically at the gates of Pisa. Niccolò

Machiavelli urged the Signoria to enlist the help of Leonardo da Vinci,

who might be able to think of an immediate plan for destroying Pisa and

her army. Never one to think in terms of an immediate battle or a

temporary success, Leonardo put forth a daring and sweeping plan that

would forever reduce the power of Pisa. The plan was as simple as it was

monumental—divert the Arno river from its course into two canals that

would empty into the sea at Leghorn south of Pisa. In this way, Pisa

would lose her water supply and her opening to the sea.

The plan met with immediate approval and by the end of July 1503,

Leonardo was sent out to survey the entire course of the river. He was

accompanied by Giovanni “the Piper,” a man who was frequently employed

on minor engineering projects and who was the official player of the

pipes to the city of Florence. Giovanni was also the father of Benvenuto

Cellini, who became the most famous goldsmith of the Renaissance. As

they made their way to Pisa, Leonardo made some more of his

extraordinary maps of the area, paying particular attention to the

course of the Arno and its tributaries. These maps later inspired him to

plan a whole series showing the main watersheds of Italy.

When he rode into the Florentine camp drawn up before Pisa, Leonardo

designed from his observations and maps, a dam on the Arno to regulate

the course of the river. This bird’s-eye view map is a marvel of

exactness. It shows the flow of the river hitting the dam with its

swirling backwash and overflow. Leonardo’s knowledge of the movement of

water was so great and his craftsmanship in drawing so fine that the

water in this map seems to flow before one’s eyes. One of the main

problems in regulating the Arno was its tendency to continually be

shifting its bed by the deposits of new sediment, and Leonardo realized

it would be a long time before this project could be completed.

When he returned to Florence he presented to the Signoria, as part of

his survey, various machines to hasten the excavation of the Arno. He

had designed a crane that would assist in the digging out of two

different levels at the same time. He also submitted the results of his

calculations on the saving of muscular energy by the use of such

machines. In addition, Leonardo proposed to use the water in the canals

for irrigation purposes and had even calculated what the volume and

velocity of a jet of water would be if projected from an opening in the

bottom of the canal wall into an irrigation ditch. As if this were not

enough, he had invented a practical method of piling as a foundation for

the lock-basins to protect them against the dangers of erosion.

A separate map of this period on the flow of rivers in general was

intended to relate to his treatise on the nature of water. In this

treatise is the first outline of the fundamental principles of

hydrodynamics, as for example:

The velocity of a current increases with the slope and decreases with

the winding of the riverbed.

The volume of a river is in proportion to the width of its bed, the

slope and the depth of the water being equal.

The slope and width being equal, the speed of the current is greatest in

the deepest part of the river.

The excavation force increases at the narrowest section of the river.

Because of the grumbling of the military commanders at what they

considered a waste of time, Machiavelli had to intervene with the

Signoria before Leonardo was sent out again with documents of authority

to continue with his plans. He spent well into the fall surveying the

Arno and in October he was back in Florence.

Meanwhile the fighting between Pisa and Florence had been lessened by

two political changes. In August Pope Alexander VI had died and his son

Cesare Borgia became seriously ill. The Republic of Florence was now

free of its most dangerous enemies—the Borgias. The city relaxed in its

new security and the hostilities between Florence and Pisa died down to

an uneasy armed watch.

Leonardo quickly took advantage of the situation to present an early

dream of his to the Signoria. He again put forth his idea of a

commercial canal to the sea and made mention of the great advantages

there would be for all the mills, lumber yards, forges and other

commercial interests in utilizing the water power that would be

available from his project. Piero Soderini, the governor of the

city-state of Florence, was impressed and thought of the glory it would

bring to Florence and himself. He told Leonardo he would present it to

the Signoria.

Leonardo now plunged into a winter of great activity. Forced to draw

from his savings, he had rejoined the guild of painters in October of

1503, and then applied for the commission of painting the murals in the

council chamber of the Palace of the Signoria. It had been planned to

decorate this great hall with scenes commemorating famous Florentine

victories, and Leonardo chose the battle of Anghiari where the soldiers

of Florence defeated the Milanese in 1440. In addition to working on the

“Mona Lisa” and continuing with the canal project—for which he was now

designing great suction pumps to lift rivers from one level to

another—he turned again to astronomy and geology.

Leonardo, while investigating the course of the upper Arno, had come

across much evidence that the land there had at one time been completely

under water. Various types of ancient ocean life and vegetation lay

scattered in layers along the ridges of the mountains, and these

Leonardo collected and brought back to his studio. He wrote, “above the

plains of Italy where now birds fly in flocks, fishes were wont to

wander in large shoals.” He reread Ptolemy, the ancient Greek geographer

Strabo, and even Sir John Mandeville, an English author of travel books,

in his quest for knowledge of distant places. He talked to travelers,

sailors, and wrote to friends to send him information about the

countries they had seen or lived in. Strabo, in particular, had set

forth the doctrine that the earth’s transformation had taken place by

the forces of volcanoes and water, but the wisdom of these early men had

been obscured by the closed minds of the Middle Ages.

Even in his own time of reawakening knowledge—the Renaissance—Leonardo

had to contend with the combined superstition of the Church and the

ignorance of misguided scholars. For example, the Church believed in the

great flood, as described in the Bible, and the scholars claimed that if

what Leonardo said were true—that the earth was the result of an

evolutionary process—there would have been written records. To this

latter Leonardo responded, “... sufficient for us is the testimony of

things produced in the salt waters and now found again in the high

mountains far from the seas.” But Leonardo’s conception of the evolution

of the earth was mistaken in one respect. He regarded the earth as

organic—living—and the flow of water he believed to be like the flow of

blood in man. Indeed, according to Leonardo, all living creatures were

reflections of a living, breathing earth. It was only when he again

turned his eyes inquiringly toward the moon and the laws of the universe

that he began to realize his error.

It had been the idea that the earth was the center of the universe which

supported Leonardo’s theory of an organic earth. Yet after years of

observation and study he abandoned this theory and, with the eye of a

man centuries ahead of his time, he wrote in his notes, “The moon has

every month a winter and a summer. And it has greater colds and greater

heats and its equinoxes are colder than ours.” He went further and

identified the elements existing on the moon such as “water, air, and

fire,” and described them and their functions as being like those on our

own earth. In so doing he recognized the existence of the moon as a

solid in space, reflecting the light of the sun—one of many “stars” in a

universe. With his acceptance of this concept he realized that the earth

could not be organic.

In May of 1504, the Signoria complained to Leonardo that there had been

no progress on the proposed paintings for their council chamber, even

though he had already been partially paid for them. Accordingly, he was

forced to sign a document that he must be finished by February of next

year or refund all monies paid him. As was his custom he had made many

preliminary drawings. Although he was well acquainted with horses he had

again researched their anatomy and actions. Pages of rearing, frightened

horses and men in combat covered his studio tables. On one of these

pages there are sketches of the heads of a lion, some horses and a

man—all with fierce expressions on their faces. Here Leonardo hinted at

the comparative anatomy of expression in man and animal that Darwin was

to write about almost four hundred years later.

Leonardo da Vinci, Pathfinder of Science · 第 5 / 9 段