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Title: Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino, Volume 1 (of 3)

Author: James Dennistoun

Editor: Edward Hutton

Release date: April 19, 2013 [eBook #42560]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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Transcriber’s Note
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CONTENTS
ILLUSTRATIONS

MEMOIRS OF THE
DUKES OF URBINO
ILLUSTRATING THE ARMS,
ARTS
& LITERATURE OF ITALY,
1440-1630
BY JAMES DENNISTOUN OF
DENNISTOUN

A NEW EDITION WITH NOTES
BY EDWARD HUTTON
& OVER A HUNDRED
ILLUSTRATIONS
IN THREE VOLUMES. VOLUME
ONE

LONDON JOHN LANE THE BODLEY
HEAD
NEW YORK JOHN LANE COMPANY
MCMIX
WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH

JAMES DENNISTOUN OF DENNISTOUN
From a medallion in the possession of his Nephew,
James N. Dennistoun of Dennistoun

TO
EDMUND G. GARDNER
IN AFFECTIONATE ADMIRATION
THIS NEW EDITION OF A FAMOUS BOOK
IS DEDICATED
BY THE EDITOR

INTRODUCTION

I
T is surely unnecessary to make any apology for this second edition of
the Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino. Notwithstanding all that has been
done in the last fifty years by historians on the one hand, and by
imaginative writers on the other, with the object of elucidating the
history of that part of Central Italy which lies within the ancient confines of
Umbria, or of appreciating the humanism of that Court which was once a
pattern for the world, this book of James Dennistoun's remains the standard
authority to which every writer within or without Italy must go in dealing in
any way with these subjects. This very honourable achievement has been
won for the book by the eager and methodical research of the author, who
made himself acquainted with all available original sources, and in the
years of his sojourn in Italy must have read and turned over a vast number
of MSS., of which some have since been printed in various Bollettini, but a
great number still remain in those Italian libraries which, always without an
efficient catalogue and often without an excuse for one, are at once the
delight and the despair of the curious student. For this reason, if for no
other, such a work as this was not easy to supersede, and so, though a later
writer always has an advantage, it was not outmoded by the careful and
loving work of Ugolini in his Storia de' Conti e Duchi d'Urbino, which was
written, I think, in exile.
But Dennistoun's Dukes of Urbino is not merely a history of the houses of
Montefeltro and Della Rovere, of their famous and most brilliant Court, and
of that part of Italy over which they held dominion, but really a work in
belles-lettres too, discursive and amusing, as well as instructive. It deals not
merely with history, as it seems we have come to understand the word, a
thing of politics—in this case the futile and childish politics of the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries in Italy—but illustrates "the arms, arts, and literature
of Italy from 1440 to 1630." And indeed this programme was carried out as
well as it could be carried out at the time these volumes were written. The
book, which has long been almost unprocurable, is full, as it were, of a
great leisure, crammed with all sorts of out-of-the-way learning and curious

tales and adventures. Sometimes failing in art, and often we may think in
judgment, Dennistoun never fails in this, that he is always interested in the
people he writes of, interested in their quarrels and love affairs, their hair-
breadth escapes and good fortunes. How eagerly he sides with Duke
Guidobaldo, chased out of his city of Urbino by Cesare Borgia! It is as
though he were assisting at that sudden flight at midnight, and, whole-
heartedly the Duke's man as he was, almost fails to understand what Cesare
was aiming at, and quite fails to see what Cesare saw too well—the
helplessness of Italy, at the mercy, really, of the unconscious nations of the
modern world. Such failures as this make his work, indispensable as it is,
less valuable than it might have been, but they by no means detract from the
general interest of the story. That is a quarry from which much has been
hewn, and a good many of those enduring blocks which go to make up so
popular and charming a work as John Inglesant came in the first instance
from Dennistoun's volumes.
A second edition then, of such a work, as it seems to me, needs no excuse.
What must, perhaps, be excused is my part in it, the intrusion of another
personality into what was so completely the author's own. Yet I can truly
say that I have intruded myself as little as possible, and, indeed, so far as
the text goes, it stands almost as Dennistoun left it, with the correction of
such errata as were due partly to the printers and partly to the oversight of
the author. The notes which have been my business, my only part in the
work, have filled the leisure of three years. They are far from being
complete, and are imperfect in a thousand ways, as I know perhaps better
than any one else, but they are as good and as useful as I could make them,
and represent in some sort the work not of three years, but of ten. As for my
intention in republishing Dennistoun's book with notes from my hand, I can
frankly say that I undertook it from a love of all that concerns Italy, and
especially Umbria, and therefore I have worked at it with joy through the
long winter evenings, and in summer I have often raised my eyes from my
manuscript to watch the dawn rise over Urbino and the beautiful great hills
among which she is throned. And you, too, had you watched her thus,
would have been sure that no labour of love could be too great for her. And
then Dennistoun's book is so fine a monument of the love England has
always borne to Italy. And I would be concerned in that too. Yet sometimes
I have thought that, in spite of all my labour—and, though I loved it, labour

it was—rather than sitting down to annotate another man's work, I should
have done better to write my own. Friends, such as one must hear, were
neither slow nor without persistence in impressing this upon me. I heard
them and shook my head. I am not an historian, but a man of letters. This
book is, after all, the work of one who thought well of facts, while I cannot
abide them. For one idea, as I know well, I would give all the facts in the
world. So the writing of history is not for me; for history is become a sort of
science, and is no longer an art. And therefore I gladly leave her to the
friend to whom I humbly dedicate my edition of this book, and to the virile
embraces of Mr. William Heywood, who first led me into this nightmare of
facts from which I am but just escaped. Let them settle it between them. For
me there remains all the uncertainties that, God be thanked, can never be
decided or be proved merely to have happened.
Thinking thus, I soon gave up any thought of writing the history of the
Counts and Dukes of Urbino myself, and turned a deaf ear to those who
would tempt me to it. I went on with my notes, however, partly from the joy
one feels in playing with fire and all such mysterious and dangerous things,
and partly from a hope that one day they might serve in some sort as finger-
posts to an Englishman who should take up this subject and study it over
again, from the beginning, more simply than Dennistoun was able to do.
As for Dennistoun's book, it always had my love, and day by day as I have
worked through and through it, it has won my respect. Full of digressions, a
little long-drawn-out, sometimes short-sighted, sometimes pedantic, it is
written with a whole-hearted devotion to the truth and to the country which
he loved. The facts are wonderfully sound, and if that part of the book for
which it was most highly praised when it was first published—the chapters
that deal with the history of Art—is become that which we can praise least,
we must remember that in art, in painting more than anything else, fashion
is king, and that the thrones from which we have driven Guido Reni, and
perhaps Raphael, setting up in their stead other masters, are as likely as not
to be in the possession of usurpers to-morrow, and we in as bad a case as
our fathers.
Perhaps I may say a word about the illustrations. The book was one which
lent itself very easily to illustration, and the great generosity of the
publisher in this matter has been of the greatest satisfaction to me. I have

sought in selecting my pictures to reflect the spirit of the book, which
concerns itself with many a hundred things besides the Counts and Dukes
of Urbino. As well as trying to give the reader all the portraits, or nearly all,
that I could find, of the Montefeltro and Della Rovere Dukes, their
Duchesses and courtiers, the men of letters, and the painters with whom
they surrounded themselves, and the pictures of their gallery, I have made
an attempt to illustrate the dress of the time—at a wedding, for instance, or
in time of mourning; and seeing that this is for the most part a feminine
business, I have chosen very many portraits of ladies, not only because they
were beautiful, though there was that too, but also because they illustrated
the manners of dressing the hair, or the wearing of jewels, and so forth; and
I think this may be cause for entertainment as well as knowledge.
With regard certainly to two of the portraits I reproduce, I should like to
suggest that they are of more than a superficial importance. I refer to the
portraits of "Giulia Diva" and "Cesare Borgia," reproduced on page 330 of
Vol. I. from contemporary medals now in the British Museum, by the
courtesy of Mr. G.F. Hill, who had casts made for me.
The first, that of "Giulia Diva," I suggest is a portrait of Giulia Bella, Giulia
Farnese, that is, mistress of Alexander VI. If it be so it is very precious, for
no portrait of her is known to exist, and though in this medal, struck about
1482, she seems already middle-aged, we most probably see there the
portrait of her whom the Pope would scarcely let out of his sight. Of the
two reputed portraits, the nude figure, lying on the tomb in the apse of St.
Peter's, was carved some thirty years after her death, and since the
monument it adorns commemorates a Farnese Pope, it is little likely to be
the beautiful Giulia who was in some sort the shame and not the boast of
her house. Ruined now by the Puritanism that suddenly overwhelmed the
Papacy after the Council of Trent, the body is almost completely hidden by
the horrid chemise Canova made for her to reassure his master. The portrait
of Giulia Farnese, which Vasari tells us is painted in the Borgia apartments,
has never been identified.
As to the medal of Cesare Borgia, we are, I think, on surer ground. It bears
his name, and was struck, Mr. G.F. Hill tells me, about 1500. In the Borgia
apartments, as we know, he was certainly represented, and though his
portrait has never been surely identified, this medal agrees so perfectly with

Pinturicchio's portrait of the Emperor there, before whom S. Catherine of
Alexandria (always supposed to be a portrait of Lucrezia Borgia) pleads,
that we may well believe we have in that figure a contemporary portrait of
one of the greatest and most romantic personalities then living.
My thanks are due to Mr. J.W. Dennistoun of Dennistoun for his courtesy in
allowing me to reproduce the portrait of James Dennistoun, which forms
the frontispiece to this work, and for his kindness in lending me the book
from which I have drawn a good part of the Memoir which follows this
preface. I have also to express my gratitude to Professor Zdekauer,
Professor Anselmi, Mr. Edmund G. Gardner, Mr. William Heywood, Mr.
G.F. Hill, Mr. William Boulting, and Mrs. Ross, for various assistance and
kindness freely given whenever I sought it. I desire also to thank Mr. H.G.
Jenkins for the infinite pains he has taken with the illustrations and the
production generally of so large a book.
Edward Hutton.
London, September, 1908.

MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR
JAMES DENNISTOUN OF DENNISTOUN

J
AMES DENNISTOUN of Dennistoun and Colgrain was descended
from the ancient and noble Scots family of the Lords de Danzielstoun.
The first of his house of which authentic records can be traced is Sir
Hugh de Danzielstoun, witness to a charter from Malcolm Earl of
Lennox, who lived during the reign of Alexander III of Scotland, who died
in 1286. His son, Sir John de Danzielstoun, was the associate-in-arms of his
patriotic brother-in-law, the Earl of Wigton, and of Sir Robert Erskine in the
reigns of Bruce and David II. His son, Sir Robert, was one of the young
men chosen from among the "magnates Scotiæ" in 1357 as hostages for the
payment to Edward III of 100,000 marks of ransom for the release of David
II. He seems to have been a prisoner in England for a long time. With him
the direct line of the house of Danzielstoun failed, and the representation
devolved upon his brother Sir William de Danzielstoun, the first of
Colgrain. So we find that in 1828 James Dennistoun of Dennistoun, the
father of the author of this work, having succeeded to his father 1816 in the
estates of Colgrain, Camis-Eskan, and Kirkmichael, proved his descent as
heir male of Sir John de Danzielstoun Lord of Danzielstoun, and obtained
the authority of the Lord Lyon to bear the arms proper to the chief of his
house[1] and thereupon assumed as his designation, Dennistoun of
Dennistoun. He married in 1801 Mary Ramsay, fifth daughter of George
Oswald of Auchencruive, in the county of Ayr, and of Scotston, in the
county of Renfrew. By her he had thirteen children, and died on June 1st,
1834.
James Dennistoun of Dennistoun, the author of this work, was born on the
17th March, 1803, in Dumbartonshire, and spent the greater part of his
youth with his grandfather, George Oswald of Scotston, to whom he owed,
as he said, his first impulse towards letters. About the year 1814 he and his
brother George were placed under the care of a tutor, the Rev. Alexander
Lochore, later minister of Drymen parish. He then proceeded to Glasgow

College, and later read for the Bar, though with no intention of practising.
He passed advocate in 1824, but seems by then and for long after to have
been gathering information regarding the old families of Dumbartonshire,
which he placed at the disposal of Mr. Irving, who acknowledges his
indebtedness to him. It was in 1825 that he went to Italy, spending
Christmas in Rome with a few friends, and meeting there Isabella
Katherina, eldest daughter of James Wolfe Murray, Lord Cringletie, whom
he married in 1835. In 1836 he sold the family estates, including Colgrain
and Camis-Eskan, and purchased Dennistoun Mains in Renfrewshire, the
property which gave name to his house. His visits to Italy then became
frequent, their most important result being the Memoirs of the Dukes of
Urbino, which he published in 1851. He died some four years later, on
February 13th, 1855, and was buried at his own desire in the Greyfriars
churchyard, Edinburgh, not in the family vault at Cardross.[2]
The best contemporary account of his life appeared in the Gentleman's
Magazine for June, 1855, which he was so fond of quoting.
"Mr. Dennistoun," we read there, "was born in Dumbartonshire in 1803, and
was the representative of the knightly house of Danzielstoun in
Renfrewshire, one of the oldest Scottish families. He was educated at the
College of Glasgow and qualified himself for the Bar in Edinburgh; but his
taste took a different direction, and being possessed of sufficient fortune, he
turned aside from the legal profession and devoted his whole attention to
literature, in connection chiefly with the Fine Arts. He was an amateur of
Art according to the true and proper meaning of that designation—he loved
and admired Art, and studied to appreciate the best examples that the world
possesses. Though in following out these studies he devoted much of his
time to the Italian school, as there painting first arose in strength, yet he was
no bigoted admirer, and could appreciate the qualities of all kinds of Art,
whether Italian or German, ancient or modern. He then aimed at giving to
the public the ideas he had formed regarding its principles, and the facts he
had collected as to its history. He could not unfold before all his friends and
visitors portfolios filled with sketches, done by himself, of passes in the
Alps, or of scenery in the Tyrol, or of views of the Temple of the Sibyl at
Tivoli, of Mount Vesuvius, etc.; but to all who wished to learn, he could
impart in a manner the most simple and unpretending, but with a clearness
and elegance that impressed and charmed all who were privileged to hear

him (and these were many), information and instruction on almost
everything relating to Art: while he often explained and illustrated what he
stated by reference to examples he had himself collected—many of them of
great rarity and value.
"He was a member of most of those societies formed for collecting
materials for, and adding to and illustrating the literature of Scotland, and
besides editing several important publications by the Bannatyne and
Maitland Clubs, contributed many interesting papers on subjects connected
with Art to most of the leading periodicals, particularly to the Edinburgh
and Quarterly Reviews.
"His first work, we believe, was the edition of Moysie's Memoirs of the
Affairs of Scotland from 1577 to 1603, which he contributed to the
Bannatyne and Maitland Clubs in 1830. This was followed by the
Cartularium Comitatus de Levenax, ab initio seculi decimi tertii usque ad
annum MCCCXCVIII, edited by Mr. Dennistoun, and printed for the
Maitland Club by Mr. Campbell of Barnhill. In 1834 another illustration of
Lennox history proceeded from Mr. Dennistoun's pen, in a reprint of The
Lochlomond Expedition, with some Short Reflections on the Perth
Manifesto, 1715. He also edited the volume of The Coltness Collections,
1608-1840, for the Maitland Club, in 1842. The Ranking of the Nobility,
1606, was printed, along with some other papers, in The Miscellany of the
Maitland Club.
"A residence in Italy gave a new bent to his pursuits. One of the first-fruits
of these Transalpine studies was a deeply interesting paper on The Stuarts
in Italy, published in the Quarterly Review for December, 1846. But by far
the most considerable result of Mr. Dennistoun's Italian sojourn was his
Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino, published in three volumes in 1852. This
work is of great value, as illustrating the state of Italy during the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries, the portion devoted to the Arts of the period being
particularly interesting; and it is to be regretted that from a delicacy carried
perhaps too far, he has curtailed this important section—the one he could
best handle—from fear, as he states in the preface, of trenching on ground
entered on by his friend, Lord Lindsay.

"Mr. Dennistoun was the writer of the article on Mr. Barton's 'History of
Scotland' in the Edinburgh Review for October, 1854; and also of the
analysis lately given in the same periodical of the Report by the
Commission on the National Gallery, which is very masterly, and, indeed,
the only successful attempt yet made to grapple with that huge
accumulation of facts and opinions of all kinds.
"He had just lived to complete another very interesting work, consisting of
the Memoirs of Sir Robert Strange, the excellent engraver, and of his
brother-in-law, Andrew Lumisden, secretary to the Stuart princes, and
author of the Antiquities of Rome. Sir Robert Strange was the maternal
grandfather of Mrs. Dennistoun. To that lady, Isabella-Katharina, eldest
daughter of the Hon. James Wolfe Murray, Lord Cringletie, a Lord of
Session, Mr. Dennistoun was married in 1835."
In the Report from the Select Committee on the National Gallery, published
by order of the House of Commons in December, 1853, we find Dennistoun
as one of the witnesses. His evidence appears to have been of some value,
and the articles which he wrote for the Edinburgh Review, both before and
after the Report was published, are excellent both in tone and substance.
"You are the possessor," he was asked, "of a small and, I may say, very
choice collection of Italian pictures, are you not?"
"A collection of early Italian pictures," he answered. And, indeed, in his day
such a collection must have been very rare in England, or, in fact, anywhere
else. These pictures were sold with other works of art that had been in his
possession, on Thursday, June 14, 1855, and by the courtesy of Messrs.
Christie, Manson & Woods, of King Street, St. James's, I am able to print
the catalogue they prepared for the sale, and the prices the pictures fetched.
E.H.

CATALOGUE

OF

THE HIGHLY INTERESTING COLLECTION

OF

PICTURES,
AND

OTHER WORKS OF ART,

Of that distinguished Amateur,

JAMES DENNISTOUN, OF DENNISTOUN, ESQ.,
DECEASED.

The PICTURES comprise choice Examples of the Italian
School, commencing with the Works of some of the earliest
Masters; also of the Spanish, German, Flemish, French, and
English Schools.
The other WORKS OF ART include three very interesting
early Paces, of Niello Work; Tryptics, of Ivory and Bone; a

few Bronzes; Majolica Plates; Illuminated Miniatures; a
Crucifix, in Boxwood, etc.
WHICH

Will be Sold by Auction, by

Messrs. CHRISTIE &
MANSON,
AT THEIR GREAT ROOM,

8 KING STREET, ST. JAMES’S SQUARE,
On THURSDAY, JUNE 14, 1855,
AT ONE O’CLOCK PRECISELY.

May be viewed Three days preceding, and Catalogues had,
at Messrs. CHRISTIE and MANSON’S Offices, 8, King
Street, St. James’s Square.

Note: The figures in brackets are the prices at which the works they refer to were bought in.

CATALOGUE
On THURSDAY, JUNE 14, 1855

AT ONE O’CLOCK PRECISELY

Early 1The Virgin, suckling the Infant
Florentine £1 5s.

Fra Angelico da 2The Madonna, and St. John
Fiesole £6 6s.
Fra Angelico da 3The Resurrection, two soldiers
Fiesole sleeping beneath—very small.
Pronounced by Dr. Waagen "a
genuine picture." £44 2s.
Fra Angelico da 4The Virgin enthroned, with two saints
Fiesole at her side. A very interesting small
work. From the Gerini Gallery; on
which Dr. Waagen says, "In this little
picture all that earnestness and
spirituality peculiar to that master is
expressed" £56 14s.
Berna di Sienna 5The Stoning of St. Stephen—painted
on gold ground £2 10s.
Giottino 6The Crucifixion, on gold ground—
small, with pointed top £5 10s.
Giottino 7The Crucifixion, with the Maries and
the centurion and soldiers beneath—
on gold ground, with pointed top £5 15s.
Giottino 8The Crucifixion, with the Virgin and
St. John; the Magdalen kneeling at the
foot of the cross—small square. £4 4s.
Taddeo Gaddi 9The Epiphany, and Visitation—parts
of a predella £19 8s. 6d.
Gentile da 10The Holy Family, seated before a
Fabriano building, the Magi in adoration, in the
singular landscape background £21
School of 11 The Virgin and Child—a fragment
Memmi £3 10s.
S. Memmi 12The Virgin and Child, with saints on
gold ground—a fragment. From the
collection of M. Lauriani of the
Vatican—unframed £2 5s.
Cos. Roselli 13The Miracle of St. Augustine. An £15 15s.
interesting composition of nine

figures
Don Lorenzo 14The Nativity: the Virgin kneeling, St.
Monaco Joseph seated on the ground, the
Infant in a manger, the shepherds and
angels above. From the collection of
M. Lauriani, Librarian of the Vatican £9 19s. 6d.
Giovanni Sanzi 15The Madonna and Child £12 12s.
Sano di Pietro 16The death of Santa Monaca, who is
di Sienna being laid in the tomb by the Saviour
and a bishop. An interesting specimen £9 9s.
Duccio di 17A beautiful small tryptic, in five parts:
Sienna in the centre the Virgin and Child
enthroned; on the wings St. Nicholas,
St. Peter, St. Paul, and St. Jerome, on
gold ground; the Emperor Constantius
and Empress Helena, and the
Entombment on the outside of the
wings. This interesting work is most
perfectly preserved £22 11s. 6d.
Greek School 18St. Nicolas: a Byzantine painting—on
gold ground [Transcriber's Note: price
missing in original]
Lorenzetti di 19A large tryptic: the Virgin and Child,
Sienna with two angels in the centre; two
saints presenting devotes on each
wing—painted on gold ground, with
pointed tops £30 9s.
G. Schiavone 20An altar-piece, on gold ground, £46 4s.
described by Dr. Waagen as "an altar-
piece by Gregorio Schiavone, in
different compartments: in the centre
the Virgin and Child; at the sides a
sainted monk and John the Baptist;
above, in the centre, the dead Christ,
supported by two angels; at the sides,
St. Anthony of Padua and St. Peter

Martyr; below, on a predella of
unusual height, two male and two
female saints, inscribed 'Opus
Sclavoni discipulus Squarcione S.'
This is the best specimen known to
me of this scholar of Squarcione;
some of the heads are of good
expression, the colouring of the flesh
is less cold, the outlines of the forms
less hard and cutting than usual"
Giovanni Sanzi 21Portrait of Raffaele, when a boy. The
head is small, the neck long, the slight
figure is clothed in a tunic tight to the
throat, from which it hangs straight
and loose, after the Italian fashion of
the fifteenth century, and though ill
adapted for elegance of drapery, its
deep crimson colour and gold
embroideries give a certain richness to
the meagrely designed costume; on a
white ledge under the figure is written
in a hand much resembling that of
Raffaele, "Raffaele Sanzi d'anni sei
nato il di 6 Ap., 1483. Sanzi padre
dipinse"; the back of the panel bears
these words, also in old characters,
"Rittratto del Piccolo Raffaele Sazi
[Transcriber's Note: should be 'Sanzi']
d'anni sei nato in Urbino il di sei di
Aprile 1483, Sanzi dipinse." A
pamphlet addressed by Mr.
Dennistoun to the Editor of the Art
Union, proving the correctness of the
day of Raffaele's birth as stated in the
picture, accompanies it £55 13s.
Bronzino 22Portrait of Luigo Allemanno £5 5s.
[Transcriber's Note: should be Luigi

Alamanni], the Florentine poet, in a
black dress
Baroccio 23Portrait of the last Duke of Urbino, in
a black dress, with a gold chain and
badge of the Golden Fleece, his hand
resting on a book £6 2s. 6d.
Raffaellino del 24La Madonna del Garofalo—on
Colle copper. A beautiful copy from
Raffaele—in frame carved with
figures £13 2s. 6d.
Al. Allori 25Portrait of Torquato Tasso, in a black
and crimson dress, holding a
manuscript. Animated and delicate in
conception, and carefully treated £26 5s.
Titian 26Portrait of Ariosto, in a blue dress.
The very rare engraving by Persin
accompanies it £85 1s.
Paris Bordone 27A Venetian Nobleman £5 5s.
School of 28The Nativity, with landscape
Fiesole background £9 10s.
Timoteo della 29The Magdalen, holding the vase and a
Vite book, in a landscape. Purchased from
M. Lauriani, librarian of the Vatican £6
School of 30The Epiphany: the Holy Family,
Perugino seated before a building, the Magi
presenting their offerings, their
attendants in the background £29 8s.
M. Albertinelli 31The Virgin and Child, seated, in a
landscape £7 7s.
Gaudenzio 32The Nativity: The Virgin and St.
Ferrari Joseph kneeling over the Infant, who
lies on the ground, three angels in
adoration beyond, the angel appearing
to the shepherds in the distance £18 7s.
Cima di 33The Virgin, in a blue dress, her hands £24 3s.
Conegliano clasped, with the Infant seated before

her on a window-ledge; a crimson
drapery behind. Signed "Joannes Bta.
Cone lanensis"
Correggio 34The Virgin, kneeling in adoration over
the Infant, with architecture in the
background—on copper £3 15s.
Andrea d'Assisi 35The Virgin and Child, on gold ground
—panel—in architectural frame of the
period £5 15s. 6d.
Garofalo 36The Nativity: The Virgin, St. Joseph,
and a Shepherd, kneeling in adoration
over the Infant, near a cavern; with
beautiful landscape background £23 2s.
Michele, of 37The Virgin and Child, with an Angel,
Florence surrounded by a border of bone
carved with figures—circular £5 5s.
P. Tibaldi 38The Annunciation, with a choir of
angels above £8 18s. 6d.
Baroccio 39Head of an Angel £9
L. da Vinci 40The Virgin and Child, holding a pear.
Purchased at Urbino, of the
Vecciarelli Family £3 13s. 6d.
Scarsellino di 41Christ in the garden
Ferrara £3
School of 42St. Roch—a small figure
Perugino £6 10s.
Paduanino 43Head of a duchess of Medicis—a
fragment £1 15s.
School of 44Saints invoking Christ—two
Giotto illuminated miniatures £4 10s.
School of 45The Virgin and Child, on a grassy
Titian bank, gathering flowers £3 15s.
School of 46The Pentecost. A beautiful miniature,
Giotto on vellum, with rich border £8 15s.
School of 47The Crucifixion, with Saints. A £4 14s. 6d.
Giotto beautiful miniature, on vellum, with

rich arabesque border
School of 48Portrait of a Lady of the Medicis
Titian Family: Pellegrina, daughter of
Bianca Capello, in a richly
ornamented dress £4 14s. 6d.
A. del Sarto 49The Resurrection. An interesting
small work in the Master's first
manner. From the de Angelis Gallery,
at Sienna £4 14s.
C. Maratti 50The Holy Family £3 3s.
Bronzino 51The Virgin and Child, with St. Joseph
and St. John. A very grand and
beautiful design—circular, on panel [£21 0s. 0d.]
G. da Carpi 52The Virgin, in a crimson and blue
dress, seated, with the Infant in her
lap, before a sculptured portico; a
green drapery suspended above—
circle on panel. The Orsini Arms on
the frame £141 15s.
Luigi Agresti 53The Last Supper. Very richly
coloured, with the engraving £6
School of 54The Virgin and Child, enthroned, with
Brescia saints and angels in adoration £4
F. Vanni 55The repose of the Holy Family—
small £2
Schedone 56The Virgin and Child £1 13s.
School of 57A female saint, holding a salver of
Parma fruit—very elegant £4 4s.
School of 58The Holy Family, with St. Francis and
Ferrara St. Jerome £9 9s.
Guardi 59A view on a canal, at Venice, with
figures £11 0s. 6d.
Guardi 60A view on the grand canal—the
companion £11 0s. 6d.
Scorza, of 61A pastoral landscape
Genoa £1 6s.

S. Rosa 62A romantic bay scene, with figures—
evening £4 10s.
Serani 63St. Cecilia, playing on the viol da
gamba £5 7s. 6d.
Testaferrata 64A Roman piper £1 1s.
Antonilez di 65St. Raymond of Penaforte. From the
Serabia Standish Gallery £3 13s. 6d.
Montelinez di 66St. Anthony, seated reading, near a
Serabia chapel, with mountainous
background. From the Standish
Gallery £2 2s.
Zurbaran 67The Madonna of Mercy—four figures
kneeling round her. From the Standish
Gallery [£2 15s.]
Murillo 68The vision of St. Augustine of
Canterbury: the saint is washing the
feet of the Saviour, who appears in the
likeness of a pilgrim; from his mouth
proceed the words "Magne Pater
Augustine tibi commendo Ecclesiam
meam." This fine gallery picture was
purchased from Don Julian Williams,
by Mr. Standish, for £600, at Seville,
in 1825; it was originally painted for
the nuns of San Leandro Order of St.
Austen, and sold by them during the
troubles caused by the army of Soult,
in 1810, to Dr. Manuel Real, from
whom it passed to Don J. Williams.
The picture is mentioned in the work
of Herrera and d'Aviles Guia de
Seville, 1832 £199 10s.
Velazquez 69Portrait of a Cardinal, seated, holding £4 4s.
a book, the chair surmounted by
shields of arms. Full of dignified

character. From Cardinal Fesch's
gallery
School of 70La Madonna Addolorata, in a crimson
Cologne dress, a light-coloured robe. A very
dignified figure. A fragment [£1 10s.]
Wilhelm, of 71The Marriage of St. Catherine with St.
Cologne Agnes. They are in the foreground of
a landscape, with buildings in the
distance. From M. Wyer, of Cologne £14 3s. 6d.
Van der Maire 72St. Catherine, presenting a devotee.
An interesting fragment £5 15s. 6d.
Van Eyck 73A fine dyptic, with the Annunciation:
the Virgin kneeling, the Angel in a
rich dress, holding a sceptre:—the
portrait of the donor outside. From the
Collection of M. Wyer, of Cologne £39 18s.
Henri Blaes La 74A tryptic, with the Virgin and Child in
Civetta the centre, seated, in a landscape; St.
Christopher and St. Anthony on the
wings; an owl, the emblem of the
Master. From the Collection of M.
Wyer, of Cologne £17 6s. 6d.
Dionysius 75The Crucifixion: The Virgin and St.
Calcar John weeping, with landscape
background £8 8s.
School of 76St. Natalitia, seated, holding a book,
Hemmelinck on which is a hand, cut off; with
architectural background. From the
same collection £12 1s. 6d.
Matth. 77Portrait of Philip le Bel, in a crimson
Guinendenwald dress and black hat, wearing the collar
of the Golden Fleece £6.
Van der Goes 78The Virgin and Child, enthroned; a
damask drapery behind; landscape
background seen on each side £22 1s.

Lucas van 79A very small female head—a
Leyden fragment 18s.
Martin Schoen 80A tryptic: the Crucifixion, with the
figures carved in wood, and painted
background in the centre; the wings
painted with the six stations; carved
canopy work over the centre; the
descent from the Cross painted on the
outside £12 1s. 6d.
Sustermans 81Portrait of Galileo £4 10s.
Sustermans 82Portrait of a Florentine lady £2 4s.
Van Dyck 83The Adoration of the Magi—a sketch
in grisaille £2 8s.
Van Dyck 84Portrait of the Earl of Strafford, in a
black dress. Purchased from the Earl
of Mar's collection, in 1805 £5 5s.
Teniers 85A landscape, with peasants and
poultry near a cottage—upright—on
copper £3 7s. 6d.
Camphuyzen 86A farm, with cattle, and a man
milking a cow near a well. Very richly
coloured £6 10s.
Jan Steen 87Portrait of a Burgomaster £5 15s.
Poelemberg 88The Riposo of the Holy Family, under
a ruined building £2 10s.
Wouvermans 89Travellers, reposing under a sunny
bank, near a pool of water £33 12s.
Van Falens 90Camp suttlers, with horsemen and
numerous figures. From the
Collection of Sir James Stuart £5 10s.
Swaneveldt 91A study of ruins—on paper £1 2s.
Watteau 92A fête champêtre £1 10s.
Rigaud 93Portrait of a French lady, holding a
row of pearls £3 10s.
Venetian 94Portrait of the admirable Crichton, in £13 2s. 6d.
black dress, seated holding a sword

and a book; with long inscription.
Dated 1581, with the engraving
Roman School 95Portrait of the Cardinal of York, in his
robes. Purchased at his villa, at
Frascati £1 10s.
Sir P. Lely 96Portrait of the Countess of Southesk,
(la belle Hamilton) in a white satin
dress, seated, holding a viol da
gamba, in a landscape, from the
collection of C.R. Sharpe, Esq. [£7 17s. 6d.]
Sir Joshua 97A very small head of a lady
Reynolds 15s.
Anthony 98Henselope Burn 14s.
Andrew Wilson 99The Cascatelle, at Tivoli, with
shepherds and goats in the
foreground, admirably painted £33 12s.
J.M.W. Turner, 100A farm in the Highlands
R.A. £2 8s.
Rev. J. 101The Trosacks. A beautiful finished
Thompson study, given by the artist to Mr.
Dennistoun in 1829 £3
J.M.W. Turner, 102Fishing boats caught in a squall
R.A. £8 15s.
Millais, A.R.A. 103A cottage barn, in Essex: a sketch of
figures on the back £4 10s.

WORKS OF MEDIÆVAL ART, AND CURIOSITIES

104Eleven silver touch-pieces, for the King's Evil, of the
Stuarts; and three bronze Papal coins £5
105A pair of red silk stockings, worked with gold.
Belonged to the last Duke of Urbino £6
106A curious ivory die, representing a man seated; and four
silver dice, in the form of men and women seated £1

107A pair of brass church candlesticks £1 15s.
108The Virgin and Child—a relief, in bronze £1 15s.
109The Flagellation—a relief, in bronze £1 15s.
110 A miniature portrait of Queen Mary, mounted in silver,
with slab of agate on the back £4 6s.
111Raffaele School—Lo Spasimo di Sicilia—a drawing, in
Indian ink and pen 6s.
112 A chalice, of silver, and copper gilt, with three busts of
Niello work on the base £3 15s.
113 A female saint, in embroidery 5s.
114 Head of St. Peter, in tapestry. From the Cardinal of
York's Villa £3 6s.
115 The Crucifixion, worked in ancient lace for an altar
cloth £2 2s.
116 A very rare caterpillar's web, of unusual size [£2]
117 St. Mary, of Egypt, of pietra-dura, on lapis-lazuli
ground £12 10s.
118 A Majolica plate, with St. Jerome, in a landscape:
signed by Maestro Giorgio, 1521—imperfect £3 15s.
119 A fragment of a Majolica plate, with Mercury, with the
initials of Maestro Giorgio, 1534 15s.
120The agony in Gethsemane—a Limosine enamel £1
121St. Dietburgha—painted on a caterpillar's web £1 6s.
122A half dyptic, with two saints in relief in ivory, and
Byzantine inscription £1 11s.
123A crucifix, elaborately carved in boxwood, containing a
rosary of silver thread £1
124A large bronze Papal seal, with the Holy Family, and 8
smaller bronze seals—one of them, Johann Russell £2 5s.
125Venus on a dolphin—a Venetian bronze, on oriental
alabaster plinth £3 10s.
126A bronze inkstand, supported on eagles, and surmounted
by a figure £3 10s.
127The Entombment—a relief, in bronze £10 10s.

128A small ivory dyptic, with the Crucifixion, and the
Virgin and Child, with two saints, in high relief, on
gothic arches £10 10s.
129A very interesting Pax, of Niello work, with Christ
bearing his Cross, and appearing to Mary, inscribed
above "Jacobus Suannes Cole"; the dead Christ, and
emblems of the Crucifixion, in the lunette above £10 10s.
130Another Pax, of niello, with the dead Christ and angels,
inscribed beneath, "Pax tibi Pilastus," and frieze of
arabesque; the Creation above—mounted in ivory £9
131A curious bone tryptic, with the Crucifixion, attended
by saints; St. Peter and St. Paul on the wings £8 18s. 6d.
132A very interesting early Pax, of Niello, with the Virgin
and Child enthroned, the latter holding a rosary; two
saints kneeling on each side; a die on the ground in the
centre [£2 15s.]

The total amount realised at the sale was £1398 15s. 6d.

AUTHOR’S PREFACE
(1851)

D
URING nearly one hundred and ninety years, five Dukes of
Urbino well and ably discharged the duties of their station,
comparatively exempt from the personal immoralities of their age.
The rugged frontier of their highland fief had, in that time, been
extended far into the fertile March of Ancona, until it embraced a compact
and influential state. Saving their subjects, by a gentle and judicious sway,
from the wild ferments that distracted democratic communities, and from
the yet more dire revolutions which from time to time convulsed adjoining
principalities, they so cultivated the arts of war, and so encouraged the
pursuits of peace, that their mountain-land gained a European reputation as
the best nursery of arms, their capital as the favoured asylum of letters. That
glory has now become faint; for the writers by whom it has been chiefly
transmitted belong not to the existing generation, and command few
sympathies in our times. But the echoes of its fame still linger around the
mist-clad peaks of Umbria, and in the dilapidated palace-halls of the olden
race. To gather its evanescent substance in a form not uninteresting to
English readers, is the object of the present attempt. Should it be so far
successful as to attract some of his countrymen to the history, literature, and
arts of Italy, they will not, perhaps, be ungrateful to the humble pioneer who
has indicated a path to literary treasures hitherto inadequately known to
them. For such an undertaking he possesses no qualification, beyond a
sincere interest in the past ages of that sunny land, and a warm admiration
for her arts during their epoch of brilliancy. But a residence there of six
years has afforded him considerable opportunities of collecting materials
for this work, which he has been anxious not to neglect.
A great portion of the duchy of Urbino, including its principal towns, has
been thrice visited, and nearly every accessible library of Central Italy has
been examined for unedited matter. To these researches, time and labour
have been freely given; and in the few instances when his attempts were

foiled by jealousy or accident, the author has generally had the satisfaction
of believing that success would have been comparatively unproductive. To
this, two exceptions should be mentioned. He was prevented by illness from
recently visiting the libraries or archives at Venice; and the Barberini
Library at Rome has been entirely closed for some years, in consequence of
a disgraceful pillage of its treasures. Should the latter be again made
accessible, the MSS. amassed by the Pontiff under whom Urbino devolved
to the Church, and by his nephews, its two first Legates, can hardly fail to
throw much light upon the duchy. The invaluable treasures of the Vatican
archives have been to him, as to others, a sealed book; but the Urbino MSS.
in the Vatican Library, those of the Oliveriana at Pesaro, and of the
Magliabechiana at Florence, have afforded copious sources of original
information, and have supplied means for rectifying omissions and errors of
previous writers. Some of these materials had been freely drawn upon by
Muzio, Leoni, and Baldi, biographers of the early dukes of Urbino, who
have not, however, by any means exhausted the soil; the amount that
remained for after inquirers may be estimated from the single instance of
Sanzi's almost unnoticed rhyming Chronicle of Duke Federigo, in about
26,000 lines.
The reigns of Dukes Federigo, Guidobaldo I., and Francesco Maria I., from
1443 to 1538, formed the brightest era of Urbino, and included the most
stirring period of Italian history, the golden age of Italian art; but our regnal
series would be incomplete without Dukes Guidobaldo II. and Francesco
Maria II., who prolonged the independence of the duchy until 1631, when it
lapsed to the Holy See. Its history thus naturally divides itself into five
books, representing as many reigns; yet, as these sovereigns were of two
different dynasties, it will be convenient to consider separately the origin of
each, and the influence which they respectively exercised on literature and
the fine arts, thus giving matter for four additional books. In Book First of
these we shall briefly sketch the early condition of the duchy, with the
establishment of the family of Montefeltro as Counts, and eventually as
Dukes, of Urbino; but, regarding Duke Federigo as the earliest of them
worthy of detailed illustration, we shall, in Book Second, with his
succession, enter upon the immediate scope of our work.

Among many interesting publications upon Italy which have recently issued
from the English press, is that of Signor Mariotti.[3] With a command of our
language rarely attained by foreigners, he has clothed a vast mass of
information in an exuberant style, savouring of the sweet South. As an
episode to his sketch of Tasso, he dedicates to the two dynasties who ruled
in Urbino a single page, in which there occur seven misstatements. John or
Giovanni della Rovere was never sovereign of Camerino; his cousin,
Girolamo Riario, held no ecclesiastical dignity; the "unrivalled splendour"
of the Montefeltrian reign at Urbino did not extend over even one century;
the wife of Giovanni della Rovere was neither daughter nor heiress of
Guidobaldo I. of Urbino, nor had she any "just claim to his throne"; Duke
Francesco Maria did not remove either his library or treasures of art to
Mantua. These slips, by a writer generally painstaking and correct, surely
indicate some deficiency in the accessible sources of information regarding
a principality which has for centuries been proverbial, in the words of
Tasso, as "the stay and refuge of gifted men."
The truth is, that although the Dukes of Urbino figure everywhere as friends
of learning and patrons of art, no work has yet appeared establishing their
especial claim to such distinction, in a land where courts abounded and
dilettanteship was a fashion. That of Riposati has indeed given us the series
of these sovereigns, but his biographical sketches are meagre, and chiefly
illustrative of their coinage. The lives of Dukes Federigo and Francesco
Maria I., by Muzio and Leoni, are excessively rare; Baldi's crude
biographies are either recently and obscurely published, or remain in
manuscript. Out of Italy these authors are scarcely known. This paucity of
illustration is not, however, the only cause why these princes have
continued in unmerited obscurity. Whilst endeavouring to guard himself
against undue hero-worship, and to subject the policy and character of those
sovereigns to the tests within his reach, the author has been obliged in some
instances to assume the functions of an advocate, and to defend them from
charges unjustly or inadvisedly brought. This will be especially found in the
life of Duke Francesco Maria I., who, as the victim of Leo X., and the
opponent of Florence, has met with scanty justice from the three standard
historians of that age in Italy, France, and England. The patriotism of
Guicciardini, as a Florentine, was inherently provincial; as a partisan of the
Medici, he had no sympathies with a prince whom they hated with the

loathing of ingratitude; as an annalist he never forgot the day when he had
cowered before the lofty spirit at the council-board. All that he has written
of Francesco Maria is therefore tinged with gall, and his authority has been
too implicitly followed by Sismondi, who, uniformly biassed against
princes by his democratic prejudices, and seeing in Guicciardini an eminent
denizen of a nominal republic, and in the Duke a petty autocrat, decided
their respective merits accordingly. Again, Roscoe could save the
consistency and justice of Leo only by misrepresenting the character of his
early friend and eventual victim, and has not shrunk from the sacrifice. It
has thus happened that, whilst ordinary readers have scanty access to details
regarding Urbino and its dynasties, these names have been unduly excluded
from many a page in Italian annals which they were well qualified to adorn.
[4]

To separate from the tangled web of Italian story threads of local and
individual interest would be fatal to unity of texture and subject. It will,
therefore, be necessary to treat Urbino and its Dukes as integral portions of
the Ausonian community, and, while distinguishing every characteristic
detail, to view them as subsidiary to the general current of events. But,
since this course offers at every moment temptations to launch our tiny bark
on a stream perilous to its pilot, prudence will keep us mostly among those
eddies which, unheeded by more skilful mariners, may afford leisure for
minute observation. If it be thought that the martial renown of Federigo and
Francesco Maria I. merited more ample accounts of their campaigns, we
may plead that arms are but a portion of our object. To mankind battle-
fields are instructive chiefly from their results; while foreign and domestic
policy, the progress of civilisation and manners, of letters and art, are in
every respect themes of profitable inquiry.
In a work undertaken with the hope of attracting general readers to the
history and arts of Italy, controversial disquisitions would be misplaced.
The student may detect occasional attempts to reconcile contradictory
narratives and jarring conclusions; but religious discussion is excluded from
these pages. The author is a Protestant by birth and by conviction, but it has
been his endeavour to judge with candour, and speak with respect, of a
Church which is the "parent of our religion," and which, during a great
portion of his narrative, was catholic in the strict sense of that often
misapplied term. He has mentioned without flattery, extenuation, or malice,

such private virtues and vices of the various pontiffs as fell within the scope
of his inquiry, leaving it to others to fix the delicate line which is supposed
to divide personal errors from papal infallibility.

A considerable portion of these volumes was written in Italy, before the
close of Pope Gregory's reign, and under impressions formed upon the
existing state of the country. It has been their author's good fortune to know
much of that attractive land during the last twenty years of the long peace,
and to admire her substantial prosperity and steady progress. Between 1825
and 1846 he has seen in her cities new streets and squares rising,
thoroughfares opened, gas-lights generally introduced, ruinous houses
substantially rebuilt, crumbling churches and palaces renovated, shops
enlarged and beautified, cafés, hotels, and baths multiplied and decorated,
public drives and gardens created, equipages rivalling those of northern
capitals, museums formed, galleries enriched, the dress and comforts of the
population greatly improved, the street nuisances of Rome removed, the
lazzaroni of Naples clothed.
In the rural districts he has observed cultivation spreading, waste lands
reclaimed, irrigation and drainage carried on, the great highways rendered
excellent, whole provinces opened up by new roads, railways rapidly
extending, rivers and torrents bridged, palatial villas springing up round the
towns and watering-places, banditti suppressed, the peasantry ameliorated
in aspect. He has learnt, from crowded ports and spreading factories, that
capital was increasing and industry being developed.
He has also noticed that, without organic changes, the political condition of
the people was being modified; that Tuscany enjoyed the mildest of paternal
governments; that in Lombardy, Piedmont, and Naples, many repressive
statutes were in abeyance; that in Turin and Florence restraints upon the
press were tacitly being relaxed; that scientific congresses were generally
permitted, and political economy freely discussed; whilst, in regard to
Rome, he ascertained the practical truth of a popular sarcasm, that
prohibitory laws were usually binding but for three days.

While conscious of all this progress, the author felt that much remained to
be done. He knew that the advance of the country was only comparative,
and rendered more apparent by her long previous stagnation. He daily had
before him solecisms in policy, errors of administration, official indolence
or corruption; above all, ample proofs that priests were no longer adapted
for ministers of state. He believed that intellect was needlessly or unwisely
shackled, and that, to ardent or speculative minds, the full blaze of
knowledge might be less deceptive than a compulsory twilight.
But, on the other hand, he was deeply convinced that, in material welfare,
the Italian people were already far above the average; that any sudden
change was more likely to endanger than to augment it; that, to a nation so
listless yet so impressionable, so credulous but so suspicious, self-
government was a questionable boon; at all events, that the mass of its
present generation was infinitely too ignorant and unpractised, possibly too
conceited and self-seeking, to comprehend the theory of a constitution, or to
perform the duties it would necessarily impose. He knew further, that those
who vaguely longed for change were usually blind to the benefits which
their country already enjoyed, and had no definite or plausible plan for the
removal of its grievances without perilling its advantages. He felt satisfied
that, should an occasion ever present itself for testing their Utopian theories,
native leaders, united in aims and worthy of their reliance, would be
wanting. The movement party in Italy then scarcely numbered a man who
had a considerable property to stake, a social position to lend him influence,
or tried business habits to gain the confidence of his fellow-citizens. Those
who stood prepared to pilot the vessel through revolutionary storms were,
for the most part, persons whose detected intrigues, or rash outbreaks, had
already driven them, with little credit, into exile, where, cut off from
intercourse with home, and associating chiefly with kindred spirits expelled
from other lands, they forgot much which it was important to keep in view,
and learned little of that candour and moderation which are the true leaven
of politics. Neglecting there those practical reforms of which Italy stood
really in need, they devoted themselves to one idea. They set up the
phantom of political unity as a new faith; they decreed that its worship
should be the condition of their country's resurrection, and that all who
demurred to it should be hunted down. Had they read Dante, or
remembered what they hourly had seen, heard, and said in their native land,

they would have known that their idol, like the image in Nebuchadnezzar's
dream,[5] was of incongruous and incompatible materials; that their
unitarian scheme was antipathic to every passion and prejudice of those
upon whom they would thrust it.

Under such impressions were written the very few allusions to the actual
state of Italy which this work contains. The aspirations of her regenerators
after nationality and constitutional freedom have since been fostered by her
spiritual ruler, and prematurely fired by an explosion of French democracy.
Subsequent events, under altered circumstances, may accordingly seem to
have invalidated opinions therein expressed; but the end is not yet. The
present continues overshadowed by gloom, and the torch of hope glimmers
but dimly in the distance. A sincere interest in the country and its people
dictates our prayer that the God of nations may grant an issue realising the
fondest anticipations of genuine patriotism, and eventually crown these
struggles with results compensating their recent evils.
Yet when we recollect the condition of Italy as we left her shores four short
years ago,—when we contrast the calm then around her institutions, the
stillness of her every-day life, the careless ease of her nobles, the physical
enjoyment of her middle classes, the simple well-being of the peasantry
under their own vines and fig-trees,—we must sigh to see so much positive
happiness perilled for contingent ameliorations which, if ever attained, may,
like most political experiments, fail to realise the promised benefits.

"Let him who sees mad war like deluge sweep
Surrounding regions, learn his peace to prize;
Let the poor bark with sides unripped, which tries
In vain by helm and sail its course to keep,
Make for the port. He lives perchance to weep,
Who quits the genial air and smiling skies
For depths unknown. O blind desire unwise
Of mortals, spurning thus on earth to creep!
O when, in this his mouldering garment frail,

Did man, whose thread soon breaks and joins no more,
Clear his own path, or by his power prevail?"[6]

In a work of history, party politics ought to have no place; and when the
nations are moved there is little inducement to assume a prophet's mantle.
We, therefore, gladly leave a topic on which perhaps too much has been
said. Possibly some Italians, to whom we have formerly represented that it
were

"Better to bear the ills we know,
Than rush on others that we wot not of,"

may yet admit the truth of this suggestion. May they never personally
realise the adage, that those who originate revolutions reap all their evils,
without living to share their fruits!

A few words regarding the method adopted in these volumes. Of the names
most conspicuous in Italian literature and art, a considerable proportion will
there find a place; but readers who expect to see their productions
enumerated, and their merits submitted to exhaustive criticism, will be
disappointed. All that our limits permit, after rapidly sketching the revival
of knowledge and the progress of that sacred painting which emanated from
Umbria, is to mention those who have contributed to shed lustre over the
duchy of Urbino, or who shared the patronage of its princes. The amount of
notice allotted to each is therefore proportioned rather to its local
importance than its absolute excellence; but, satisfied from experience how
seldom a wide-spread interest attaches to individual details, our aim has
ever been to generalise even those points demanding a more specific notice
in connection with our immediate subject.
As the recurrence of foot-notes in a popular narrative unpleasantly distracts
the reader from its continuous course, these have been avoided, unless when
especially called for; and the necessity for them in citing references has
been in a great degree anticipated, by prefixing a list of the leading
authorities consulted, which it is hoped will generally bear out views that

have been honestly formed, after examining what seemed the best sources
of information. Extracts have been introduced, where it appeared desirable
to preserve the style or words of an author; but they are in most cases
rendered (literally rather than with elegance) into English, except such
specimens of poetry as could not be fairly estimated from a translation.
Documents and episodical details, which would have encumbered the text,
are appended to the respective volumes.[7]
The majority of proper names being Italian, are written in that language,
excepting such as, like those of places, and titles of popes and sovereigns,
have long been familiar to English ears in a different orthography. In such
matters uniformity of practice is the main object to be attended to, and
having to choose between names as they were actually used and their
English synonyms, we have preferred Giacomo Piccinino, Giulio Romano,
and Lorenzo de' Medici, to James the Little Fellow, Julius the Roman, and
Lawrence of the Medici.[8] There will often be mentioned districts and
divisions of Italy which are defined by no exact political or geographical
limits; it may therefore be well here to explain in what sense these
somewhat convertible terms are employed. Central Italy may be
considered to contain the papal territory and the three Tuscan duchies;
Upper and Lower Italy include all the Peninsula, respectively to the north
and the south of these states. Again, Lombardy is used as a generic term for
the whole basin of the Po, the Polesine being that portion of its delta, north
of the river, which belonged to the Dukes of Ferrara. Romagna stretches
from the Po to the Metauro, from the Apennines to the Adriatic; La Marca,
or the March of Ancona, continues the same sea-board to the Tronto: these
two districts were long the cradle of Italian prowess, the allotment-land of
petty princes; both were partially comprehended within the more ancient
landmarks of Umbria, a mountain province lying east of the Tiber. The
lower basin of this classic stream contained Sabina on the east, and the
Patrimony of St. Peter on the west; the Comarca lying south of the
Teverone stream, and the whole wide plain around Rome being called the
Campagna. Tuscany, including the Sienese, ran northwards from the
Patrimony, beginning below Orbetello; and Naples is familiarly called by
Italians The Kingdom, having, until a recent date, been the only royal state
in their fatherland.

Our chronology also requires the use of certain conventional terms, which
ought to be defined. Assuming the close of the fifteenth century as the
zenith of Italy's glory in letters and arts, in politics and arms, the only word
specifically indicating that period is cinque-cento; but seeing that its lustre
was attained under military and civil institutions, and was rendered
permanent by studies and artistic creations, derived from the middle ages
and breathing their spirit, the phrase mediæval is extended to include that
period.

Few things are more baffling to students of history than the true worth of
money in different states and ages, and its relative value in reference to our
own standards. It is impossible to over-estimate the convenience which
tables, showing the fluctuations of currency and prices among different
nations, would afford; but the difficulties of completing them may perhaps
be insuperable. In order to supply this desideratum, however imperfectly, a
few observations are here submitted.
In considering the value of money at different periods, a variety of
circumstances must be kept in view. There are, however, four elements to
be embraced by all calculations for such a purpose: (1) the comparative
weight of the coinage; (2) the respective amounts of alloy introduced into
the standard of precious metals; (3) the effect produced on gold and silver
value by the discovery of America; (4) the fluctuations in prices of
commodities. The last of these elements includes and depends upon the
others, so that a tariff of prices at various times might be practically
sufficient for the object contemplated. The impediments, however, to
obtaining such a tariff are apparently insurmountable. Statistical facts,
incidentally mentioned by historians, or gleaned from original documents,
must be received with large allowance. Articles of costly luxury in one age
became abundant in another, and are at all times affected by local or
temporary causes. Quality was also variable; horses, oxen, sheep, and
poultry, reared or fed in rude times or uncultivated districts, cannot fairly be
compared with those perfected by care and expense; the same may be said
of wines, fruits, clothing; even land is saleable according to its condition,
fertility, or situation. The test usually resorted to in such inquiries is corn;

but weights and measures, seldom uniform, are with difficulty ascertained
at remote periods, while exceptional prices are more frequently noted than
average ones, by observers prone to record striking events rather than
every-day facts. There are, however, some apparently admitted data not
altogether unavailable for our immediate purpose.
During the period embraced by our memoirs of Urbino, the standard of
value prevalent in most parts of Italy was the golden florin or ducat. Of
these probably equivalent terms, the former was generally employed in
Central Italy, the latter in Lombardy. According to Villani, the florin of
Florence, in 1340, weighed 72 grains of pure gold, 24 carats fine. Sismondi,
in referring to a period about a century later, estimates its weight at ⅛ of an
ounce, or 60 grains. Orsini reckons it, in 1533, at 70 grains, 22 carats fine.
On the whole, it appears, from Cibrario and other authorities, that this coin,
and its successor the zecchino, have maintained an almost uniform weight
down to the present time. Assuming that gold in Italy had then the same
coinage-value as in England, it appears from calculations, founded upon
Fleetwood's data, that the florin was, at these various periods, equivalent in
contemporary English coin to 3s. 6d., 4s. 8d., and 5s. 10d. Again, the ducat
of Venice is estimated by Daru at 4 franks in 1465, at 4⅓ in 1490, and by
Sanuto at 4s. English in 1500. Riposati, in a careful analysis of the coinage
of Gubbio, proves that the conventional Urbino florin of 1450 should have
contained 63434/59 grains of silver, besides alloy, which would at that time
have yielded 3s. 9d. English, or at our present pure silver value (5s. 6d. to
the ounce) 7s. 3¼d.
It would follow, from these several opinions, that the florin or ducat of Italy,
in the fifteenth century, was equal to from 3s. 6d. to 4s. 6d. in contemporary
English circulation, which disposes of two elements for our calculation. The
remaining two must have been inadequately kept in view by Cibrario,
Ricotta, and Audin, who respectively value the florin of 1400 as now worth
16⅔ francs, that of 1490 at 14 francs, and that of 1500 at 12 francs; while in
the Library of Entertaining Knowledge it is set down at 10s. English in
1480. But if we assume the analogy of English prices as collected by
Fleetwood, the result will be very different. From these it appears that an
average cost of wheat and oats per quarter, in the fifteenth century, was
about 5s. 2d. and 2s. 6d., while the wages of labourers and artisans were
respectively 3½d. and 4½d. a day. Accordingly, if corn be taken as the test,

money was then ten times beyond its modern value; while, if we include
labour and luxuries, the actual depreciation must appear much greater. We
are greatly encouraged to find such an inference not very different from that
adopted by three recent and important authorities. Prescott values the
Spanish ducat of 1490 at 39s. 4d., and Macaulay states that of Florence in
1340 at 40s. sterling, while Sismondi calculates it at about 48 francs. On the
whole, then, we venture to assume that the Italian ducat or florin of the
fifteenth century was nearly equal to the present Spanish dollar, and that it
would have purchased about twelve times the amount of necessaries and
luxuries which that coin now represents in England—a discrepancy of
course lessened in the next and each succeeding age, especially as the
precious metals continued to flow in from the new hemisphere. This
estimate is, however, offered with great deference, and only as a general
approximation to the truth, by no means applicable to numerous exceptional
cases.[9]

In closing these preliminary observations, it is a pleasing duty to
acknowledge the facilities obligingly placed at the author's disposal by kind
friends in Italy and at home. The urbanity with which Monsignore Laureani
afforded every assistance compatible with the stringent regulations of the
Vatican Library, demands a tribute tempered by regret that death should
have prematurely removed him from a trust which he usefully and
gracefully discharged. To Don Pietro Raffaele, of the Oliveriana Library at
Pesaro, and to the Abbé Francesco Raffaele Valenti, of the Albani Library at
Urbino; to Signor Luigi Bonfatti, of Gubbio; to the archivists of many
towns, and to the directors of not a few galleries in Italy, a large debt of
gratitude has been incurred. The intimate acquaintance with the treasures of
Italian art possessed by the Commendatore Kestner, minister from the Court
of Hanover at the Holy See, was, with his wonted kindness and courtesy,
freely rendered available. Mr. Rawdon Brown, whose profound knowledge
of Venetian history and antiquities will, it is hoped, be ere long appreciated
in England, as it already is in the Lagoons, has communicated most
important documents, which the author was unable personally to inspect.
Mr. F.C. Brooke, of Ufford Place, Suffolk, has likewise supplied some

valuable notices. The embellishments of these volumes owe much to the
friendly assistance of Mr. Lewis Gruner, an artist whose generous character
and happy exemption from professional jealousies are not less remarkable
than the success of his burin and the excellence of his taste. With a liberality
unusual among English collectors, Dr. Wellesley, Principal of New College
Hall, Oxford, threw open his stores of Italian historic art, and allowed the
use of several rare medallions. To these, and to many whose good wishes
have cheered him on, the author's thanks are thus heartily, though
inadequately, offered.

CONTENTS
PAGE
Introduction vii
Memoir of the Author xiii
Catalogue of the Picture Sale of the Author xix
Author’s Preface xxix
List of Illustrations of Volume I. xlix
Chronological Table of Contents of Volume I. li

BOOK FIRST
OF URBINO AND ITS EARLY COUNTS

CHAPTER I
Topography of the Duchy of Urbino—Origin of the Italian communities
—Their civil institutions and military system—Their principle of
liberty—Political divisions of Romagna; opposed to modern
speculations regarding centralization 3
CHAPTER II
Origin of the Counts of Montefeltro, and of their sovereignty in Urbino
and the surrounding country—Their early genealogy—Guido Count of
Urbino—Antonio Count of Urbino 22
CHAPTER III
Guidantonio Count of Urbino—The Ubaldini—Oddantonio Count of
Urbino—Is made Duke—His dissolute habits and speedy assassination 42

BOOK SECOND
OF FEDERIGO DI MONTEFELTRO, COUNT AND
SECOND DUKE OF URBINO

CHAPTER IV
The birth of Count Federigo—Condition of Italy—His marriage and
early military service—The Malatesta his inveterate foes—He takes S.
Leo—Is invested with Mercatello 61
CHAPTER V
Count Federigo succeeds to Urbino and acquires Fossombrone—His
connection with the Sforza family, whereby he incurs
excommunication—His campaign in the Maremma—Loses his eye in
a tournament 85
CHAPTER VI
Count Federigo enters the Neapolitan service—His two campaigns in
Tuscany—Fall of Constantinople—Peace of Lodi—Nicholas V.—The
Count's fruitless attempt at reconciliation with Sigismondo Pandolfo
Malatesta, followed by new feuds with him—Death of his Countess
Gentile 102
CHAPTER VII
Count Federigo's domestic life—His second marriage—New war for
the Angevine succession to Naples—Battle of San Fabbiano—
Conclusion of the war—Humiliation of the Malatesta 120
CHAPTER VIII
Count Federigo's home administration and court—Description of his
palace and library at Urbino—His other palaces—The resources of his
state 147
CHAPTER IX
Count Federigo's varied engagements—Battle of La Molinella—Death
and character of his enemy Malatesta—Affairs of Rimini 177
CHAPTER X
Birth of Prince Guidobaldo—Count Federigo captures Volterra—Is
again widowed—Receives the Garter and the Ermine—Is made Duke
of Urbino—His patronage of learned men 207
CHAPTER XI
The Duke of Milan assassinated—Count Girolamo Riario—The Pazzi
conspiracy—Duke Federigo's campaigns in Tuscany—Progress of the
Turks 233
CHAPTER XII

The war of Ferrara, and the death of Duke Federigo—His character
258
and portraits

BOOK THIRD
OF GUIDOBALDO DI MONTEFELTRO, THIRD DUKE OF URBINO

CHAPTER XIII
The early promise of Duke Guidobaldo I.—Count Girolamo Riario
assassinated—The Duke's marriage—Comparative quiet of Italy 295
CHAPTER XIV
State of the papacy at the election of Alexander VI.—His election,
character, and children—The aspect of Italy at the close of her golden
age—The disputed succession of Naples reopened—Character and
views of Charles VIII.—Proposed league to oppose him frustrated—
State of the Roman Campagna—The old and new military systems in
Italy 315
CHAPTER XV
Italy ill prepared for the French invasion—Duke Guidobaldo sent
against the Orsini—Lucrezia Borgia's second marriage—Descent of
Charles VIII.—He reaches Naples and retreats—Battle of the Taro—
The Duke engaged in the Pisan war—Is taken prisoner by the Orsini
and ransomed 341
CHAPTER XVI
The crimes and ambition of the Borgia—Murder of the Duke of
Gandia—Duke Guidobaldo's expeditions against Perugia and Tuscany
—He adopts Francesco Maria della Rovere as his heir—Louis XII.
succeeds to Charles VIII., and to his views upon Italy—Cesare Borgia
created Duke Valentino—Duke Guidobaldo at Venice 363
CHAPTER XVII
The condition of Romagna—Cesare Borgia overruns and seizes upon
it—The spirit of his government—Naples invaded by Louis, and
handed over to Spain—Lucrezia Borgia's fourth marriage 379
CHAPTER XVIII

Duke Guidobaldo's retired life—Cesare Borgia surprises and seizes
Urbino—The Duke's flight—The diet of La Magione—Rising in the
Duchy, and his return—He again retires 399

APPENDICES

I. Poetry of the family of Montefeltro 427
II. Inventory of articles taken by Brigida Sueva di
Montefeltro, alias Sister Serafina, into the Convent of
Corpus Domini 433
III. Poetry of Ottaviano degli Ubaldini 436
IV. Instrument containing the concessions demanded by the
citizens and acceded to by Count Federigo, on being
chosen as their Seigneur 438
V. Devices and mottoes of the Dukes of Urbino 443
VI. The illuminated MSS. in the Urbino Library 446
VII. Duke Federigo of Urbino a Knight of the Garter 450
VIII. The army of Charles VIII., in 1493 460
IX. The battle of the Taro, in 1495 463
X. The arrival of Duke Valentino at the French Court 468
XI. Ludovico Sforza's entry into Lyons, in 1500 470
XII. Sonnet to Italy by Marcello Filosseno 472
XIII. Marriage festivities of Lucrezia Borgia at Ferrara, in 1502 473
Genealogical Tables At end of
book

ILLUSTRATIONS
James Dennistoun of Dennistoun. From a medallion in the
possession of his nephew James W. Dennistoun of
Dennistoun Frontispiece
TO FACE
PAGE
View of Urbino. (Photo Alinari) 22
The Battle of S. Egidio. After the picture by Paolo Uccello in
the National Gallery. Portraits of Carlo Malatesta and his
nephew Galeotto "il Beato" 44
Leonello d'Este. After the picture by Pisanello in the Morelli
Gallery, Bergamo. (Photo Alinari) 54
Nicolò Piccinino. From a bronze medal by Pisanello. By the
courtesy of G.F. Hill, Esq. 70
Vittorino da Feltre. From a medal by Pisanello in the British
Museum. By the courtesy of G.F. Hill, Esq. 70
San Leo and Maiuolo. From a drawing by Agostino Nini 78
Federigo of Urbino. From the XV. Century relief in the
Bargello, Florence. (Photo Alinari) 86
Francesco Sforza. From the XV. Century relief in the
Bargello, Florence. (Photo Alinari) 98
Federigo, Duke of Urbino, and Battista, his wife. From the
picture by Piero della Francesca in the Uffizi Gallery,
Florence. (Photo Alinari) 120
Allegory. After the picture by Piero della Francesca in the
Uffizi Gallery, Florence. (Photo Alinari) 122
Allegory. After the picture by Piero della Francesca in the
Uffizi Gallery, Florence. (Photo Alinari) 124
Sigismondo Malatesta. Detail from the fresco by Piero della
Francesca in the Tempio Malatestiano in Rimini. (Photo
Alinari) 132

Urbino. From an original drawing by Agostino Nini of
Bologna 148
The Flagellation. After the picture by Piero della Francesca in
the Sacristy of the Duomo, Urbino. Supposed portraits of
Duke Federigo and Caterino Zeno. (Photo Alinari) 152
Fifteenth-century Court of the Palazzo Ducale, Urbino.
(Photo Alinari) 162
Pio II. at Ancona. After the fresco by Pinturicchio in the
Cathedral Library, Siena. (Photo Brogi) 178
Portrait of Leon Battista Alberti. From the relief by Pisanello
in the Dreyfus Collection 194
Pope Sixtus IV. From a miniature prefixed to the dedication
copy of Platina's Lives of the Popes in the Vatican Library 202
Battista Sforza, Duchess of Urbino, second wife of Duke
Federigo. From the bust by Francesco Laurana in the
Bargello, Florence. (Photo Alinari) 214
Federigo of Urbino and his Family. Detail from the picture by
Justus of Ghent, in the Palazzo Ducale, Urbino. (From the
Ducal Collection.) (Photo Alinari) 216
Lorenzo de' Medici. From the fresco by Ghirlandaio in S.
Trinità, Florence. (Photo Alinari) 238
Giuliano de' Medici. (Photo Alinari) 240
The Birth of Venus. Supposed portrait of Simonetta Cattaneo
—mistress of Giuliano de' Medici. Detail from the picture by
Sandro Botticelli in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence. (Photo
Alinari) 242
Astorgio III. de' Manfredi. From the picture by Scaletti in the
Pinacoteca of Faenza 258
Federigo di Montefeltro. After the picture by Justus of Ghent,
once in the Ducal Collection at Urbino, now in the Palazzo
Barberini in Rome. (Photo Anderson) 266
The Contessa Palma of Urbino. After the portrait by Piero
della Francesca in the National Gallery 280
Guidobaldo I. From a picture in the Colonna Gallery in Rome 296
Caterina Sforza. After the picture by Marco Palmezzani in the
Pinacoteca of Forlì. (Photo Alinari) 306

Isabella of Aragon. After the drawing by Beltraffio in the
Biblioteca Ambrogiana, Milan. (Photo Anderson) 310
Pope Alexander VI. Detail from a fresco by Pinturicchio in
the Borgia apartments of the Vatican, Rome 320
"Diva Julia." From a bronze medal ca. 1482 by L'Antico in
the British Museum. By the courtesy of G.F. Hill, Esq. 330
Cesare Borgia. From a medal ca. 1500 in the British Museum.
By the courtesy of G.F. Hill, Esq. 330
Julius II as Cardinal. From a medal in the British Museum.
By the courtesy of G.F. Hill, Esq. 330
St. Catherine of Alexandria. Supposed portrait of Lucrezia
Borgia by Pinturicchio. Detail from a fresco in the Borgia
apartments of the Vatican, Rome. (Photo Anderson) 344
Bianca, daughter of Ludovico Sforza. After the picture by
Ambrogio de' Predis in the Biblioteca Ambrogiana, Milan.
(Photo Anderson) 352
Cesare Borgia as the Emperor. Detail from the fresco of the
Disputa of S. Catherine in the Borgia apartments of the
Vatican. (Photo Anderson) 364

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE
CHAPTER I

A.D. PAGE
The duchy of Urbino, how composed 3
Its characteristic features, and traditional topography 4
Origin of Italian communities 4
Rise of the Guelph and Ghibelline factions 5
Counts of the empire 6
Republics established in Italy 7
Opinions regarding their spirit 8
The seigneurs attain to sovereignty 10
Practical distinction of Guelph and Ghibelline 11
Early military system 12
Origin and influence of free companies 14
The term Republic misapplied 15
Their principle of liberty examined 16
Political divisions of Romagna and La Marca in the
fifteenth century 18
Opposed to modern speculations and the aims of
Young Italy 19
Mariotti's admissions regarding freedom 20

CHAPTER II

Examples of these ideas in the dynasties of Urbino 22
1160. The early Counts of Montefeltro are invested with
Urbino 22
1371. Invited to Cagli 22
1384. Received at Gubbio 22

1433. Acquired Casteldurante 23
1445. Purchased Fossombrone 23
1474. Sinigaglia given to the della Rovere 23
1513. They obtained Pesaro and Gradara 23
Statistics of the state so composed 23
1160- Its dynastic changes
1631. 24
Early genealogy of the Montefeltri 24
1160- The Counts of Carpegna
1815. 25
1154. Antonio, first Count of Montefeltro 25
1216. Buonconte, first Count of Urbino 25
1268. Count Guido the Elder, his prowess 26
1282. Takes Forlì by stratagem 27
1289. Excommunicated as a Ghibelline 27
1296. Abdicates and becomes a friar 28
1294. Abdication of Celestine V. 28
” Succeeded by Boniface VIII. 28
1296. His feuds with the Colonna 29
” He recalls Count Guido to the world 30
” Dante's confession of the Count 30
” How far consistent with fact 32
” The Count's piety attested by Boniface 33
1298. Sept. His death at Assisi
27. 34
1300. The struggles of his successors 35
1377. Antonio Count of Urbino 36
1384. Extends his sway over Gubbio, Cagli, and Cantiano 37
1390. His mild government and literary tastes 37
1404. May 9. His death announced to the authorities of Siena by his
son 38
” His children 39
” His daughter Battista, wife of Galeazzo Malatesta, Lord
of Pesaro 39

” Her literary acquirements 40
” Battista takes the veil 40
” Misfortunes of her daughter Elisabetta 41

CHAPTER III

1404. Guidantonio Count of Urbino 42
1408. Made Lord of Assisi 42
1413. And Vice-general of Romagna 43
” Braccio di Montone 43
1417. Nov. Election of Pope Martin V.
11. 44
1418. Dec. Count Guidantonio made Duke of Spoleto 44
1420. Braccio reconciled to the Pope 45
1424. March The Count marries Caterina Colonna
4. 45
” His disputes with the Brancaleoni 45
1430. Sept. 3. Made Captain-general of Florence 46
1431. March Election of Pope Eugenius IV.
3. 46
1438. Oct. 9. Death of Countess Caterina 47
1442. Feb. Death of Count Guidantonio
20. 47
” His children 47
” His daughter Brigida Sueva's singular history 48
” His natural children 49
” Origin of the Ubaldini della Carda 49
” Notice of Ottaviano Ubaldino 50
1424. Birth of Count Oddantonio of Urbino 51
1443. April Made Duke of Urbino
26. 51
” His vicious career 52
1444. July 22. His assassination 53
” His intended marriage 55

1439- Two original letters from him to the magistrates of
1443. Siena 56
The dukedom lapsed on his death 58

CHAPTER IV

Federigo Count of Urbino 61
1422. June 7. The mystery and misstatements regarding his birth 61
1424. Dec. Set at rest by his legitimation
22. 62
” The Brancaleoni of Mercatello 63
1430. Their heiress Gentile betrothed to Count Federigo 64
” The state of Italy at this time 64
” Rome and the Papacy 65
” Florence and Central Italy 66
” Lombardy and Venice 67
1433. Federigo sent to Venice as a hostage 68
1434. Made a companion of the Hose 68
” Becomes a pupil of Vittorino da Feltre at Mantua 69
” Character and system of Vittorino 70
1433. Federigo knighted by the Emperor 71
1437. Dec. 2. His marriage 72
” Nicolò Piccinino successor of Braccio di Montone 72
1438. Federigo serves under him in Lombardy 74
1439. Next, under his brother-in-law Guidaccio Manfredi,
Lord of Faenza 74
” A midnight alarm 74
” The Malatesta hereditary rivals of the Montefeltri 75
” Sigismondo Pandolfo Lord of Rimini opposed by
Federigo 75
1440. June The battle of Anghiari
29. 77
1442. Federigo recovers Montelocco 77
1441. Description of S. Leo 78

” Federigo takes it 80
” Position of Francesco Sforza 80
” Pedigree of the Sforza family 80
1443. Federigo after his father's death rejoins Piccinino 81
” Visits Naples with him 81
” Nov. 8. Sforza defeats Piccinino at Monteluro 82
” Sanzi's description of that battle 82
” Federigo invested with Mercatello 83
1444. He protects Galeazzo Malatesta's seigneury of Pesaro 83
1445. Feb. Is challenged by Sigismondo Malatesta of Rimini
21. 83

CHAPTER V

Federigo accepted as successor of Duke Oddantonio
1444. July 22.
in Urbino 85
” Conditions imposed by the people 86
” The state of Central Italy 87
” Contemporary sketch of Federigo 88
” Spite of Sigismondo Pandolfo 89
” Sale of Pesaro and Fossombrone 90
1445. March Marriage of Alessandro Sforza, who becomes Lord of
16. Pesaro 91
” Mistakes of Sismondi 91
” Francesco Sforza's breach with Filippo Maria Visconti
and Sigismondo Malatesta 91
” June He is supported by Federigo, and visits Urbino
22. 92
1446. His position at La Marca, which he loses 92
” April. Federigo excommunicated by Eugenius for adhering
to Sforza 93
” The fortune of war changes 93
1447. Sforza is reconciled with the Duke of Milan 94
” Sept. 3. Sigismondo attacks Fossombrone 95

” Feb. Death and character of Eugenius IV.
23. 95
” Death of the Duke of Milan 96
1450. Succeeded by Francesco Sforza 97
1447. Designs of Alfonso of Naples upon Tuscany 97
1448. March. Opposed by Federigo for the Florentines 98
” Sigismondo tricks Alfonso, and attacks Fossombrone 98
” Sept. Alfonso and Federigo return home 99
1449. Sigismondo attempts to dupe Federigo, but is foiled 99
1450. Federigo made Captain-general by the Duke of Milan 100
” June Peace between Naples and Florence
29. 100
” Loses his eye in a tournament 101

CHAPTER VI

1450. The peace of Italy threatened by new combinations 102
” Federigo quits the service of Milan for that of Naples 103
” The King employs him without exacting sureties 103
1451. The Emperor Frederick III. comes to Italy, and is
crowned at Rome 103
1452. The Neapolitan campaign in Tuscany under Federigo
and the Duke of Calabria 103
1452- Federigo goes to Naples, and returns in the spring
1453. 104
1453. Attacked by malaria fever 104
” July 26. His letter to the Priors of Siena 104
” Uninteresting conclusion of the war 105
” May Fall of the Greek empire, and taking of Constantinople
29. 106
1454. Efforts of Nicholas V. for a general league against the
Turks 107
” April 9. The peace of Lodi 107

1455. Mar. The death and character of Nicholas V.
24. 107
1454. Federigo's friendly visit to the King of Naples 108
1455. Jan. 26. The King ratifies the league with an unfortunate
reservation 109
1457. Federigo takes measures for humbling Sigismondo 109
” April. Visits Florence, Bologna, Milan, and Mantua 109
” His fruitless interview with Sigismondo at Modena 110
” June. He goes to Naples for assistance; many intrigues there 110
” Death of his Countess Gentile 111
” Nov. 7. Asks a mortar-founder from Siena 111
” He attacks Sigismondo 112
1458. May 2. His despatch to the Priors of Siena 112
” July 1. Death of Alfonso of Naples 113
” Aug. 6. Death of Calixtus III. 113
” Ambitious intrigues of Giacomo Piccinino, who seizes
on part of the ecclesiastical territory 114
” Federigo continued as Captain-general by Ferdinand
of Naples 115
” New disputes for the crown of Naples 115
1459. May Pius II. summons a European congress at Mantua
27. 116
” His mediation between Malatesta and the Count of
Urbino 116
” June His letter to Federigo
21. 117
” His award in favour of Federigo 119

CHAPTER VII

Federigo's domestic life 120
1454. His sons Buonconte and Antonio legitimated 120
1458. Oct. Buonconte dies at Naples of plague 120
” Death of another son, Bernardino 120

1459. Count Federigo's marriage to Battista Sforza proposed 121
” Errors of Sismondi regarding her (note) 121
” Her education and accomplishments 121
” Nov. Her betrothal at Pesaro 122
1460. Feb. Her marriage celebrated at Urbino
10. 122
” Giovanni Sanzi's description of her 122
1459. New wars in Italy interrupt the long-proposed Turkish
crusade 123
” Unpopularity of Ferdinand of Naples 123
” State of the Angevine claimants to that crown 123
1458. May Jean Duke of Calabria made Seigneur of Genoa
11. 123
1459. Supported in his designs upon Naples by France,
Genoa, and Florence 124
” Opposed by Pius II. and the Duke of Milan, who
adhere to the Italian league 124
” Oct. 4. The Duke of Calabria sails from Genoa to invade
Naples 124
1460. Venice and Florence become neutral 124
” Giacopo Piccinino deserts to the Angevines 125
” Mar. Evades Federigo and reaches the Abruzzi
30. 125
” April. The confederates follow him thither 125
” July 7. Ferdinand is beaten at Sarno 125
” Armies of the League and of Piccinino meet at San
Fabbiano 126
” Tournament before the battle 126
” Accident to the Count of Urbino 126
” July 22. Battle of San Fabbiano 127
” ” ” Mistakes as to the date of it (note) 127
” Aug. 2. The confederates retreat 128
” Anecdote of Count Federigo 129
” Ferdinand saved by his Queen's intercession 130
” Count Federigo re-engaged by Pius II. 130

” Oct. Rome threatened by Piccinino 130
” Dec. Count Federigo goes to Rome for Christmas 131
1461. Sigismondo Malatesta put on trial 131
1462. Apr. Burned and excommunicated
14. 132
1461. June. Count Federigo crosses the Apennines 132
” July. His conversation with Pius II. on ancient history 133
” Oct. He reduces Aquila and Sora 133
” ” Is complimented by Pius II. 134
1461- Visits Rome and Naples
1462. 134
1461. Mar. Angevine prepossessions of the Genoese changed by a
revolution 135
” July 17. Total defeat of King René there 135
” George Scanderbeg supports Ferdinand 135
1462. Sigismondo Malatesta's force augmented 135
” Aug. Count Federigo hurries into La Marca to meet him 136
” ” 12. Overthrows him at the Cesano, near Sinigaglia 137
” ” ” Rejects his offers of friendship 137
” Oct. 6. His conduct approved by Pius II. 138
” Nov. 3. Made lieutenant-general of the ecclesiastical forces 139
” Sept. Mondavio capitulates to him; the miseries of war
20. 139
” Oct. 22 Giovanni Malatesta taken prisoner at Montefiori, and
liberated by him 140
” ” 31. He obtains Verucchio by a dishonourable trick, and
winters there 140
” Aug. Piccinino defeated at Troia
18. 141
” Sept. The Prince of Tarento deserts the Angevines
13. 141
1463. Aug. Piccinino follows his example 141
1464. The Duke of Calabria finally quits Italy 141
1463. July. Fano besieged by Count Federigo 142

” Sept. It is surrendered by Roberto Malatesta
28. 143
” ” ” His generosity to Sigismondo's family 143
” ” ” The satisfaction of Pius 143
” Oct. 5- Sinigaglia and Gradara surrender to Federigo
25. 144
” ” Venice mediates in behalf of Sigismondo 144
” ” He humbles himself to the Pope, and is absolved 145
” Nov. 1. Peace with the Malatesta, giving the Count an
accession of territory 146

CHAPTER VIII

1463- The home administration of Federigo
1464. 147
” ” Scantily illustrated by his biographers 147
” ” His court and establishment 150
” ” Its hospitalities 152
1454. A new palace begun at Urbino 154
1463- Its appearance
1464. 154
” ” Designed by Luziano Lauranna 155
” ” Federigo's patent in his favour 156
” ” And continued by Baccio Pontelli 157
” ” Who makes a plan of it for Lorenzo de' Medici 157
” ” Fallacy regarding Francesco di Giorgio 158
” ” His frieze of trophies and pompous inscription 158
” ” Description of the palace, and view from it 159
” ” Its decorations in stone and intarsia 160
” ” Fallacy as to its museum of art 161
” ” The saloons for books and manuscripts 162
” ” State of bibliography at this period 163
” ” Federigo a collector of manuscripts 164
” ” Attested by Sanzi and Vespasiano 164

” ” Regulations of his library 167
” ” Notice of its librarians 168
” ” Its extent and cost 168
” ” The stable-range built by Francesco di Giorgio 169
” ” Cost of the palace 170
” ” Anecdote of its foundation 170
” ” Churches founded by Federigo 171
” ” Description of his palace at Gubbio 171
” ” His other residences 174
” ” The extent and resources of his state 175

CHAPTER IX

1464. Aug. The projected crusade abandoned 177
” ” Death of Pius II.; succeeded by Paul II.
14. 177
” ” Sanzi's lines on his death 178
” Sept. Count Federigo made Gonfaloniere of the Church
28. 179
” ” Explanation of that title (note) 179
” Oct. Returns to Urbino after visiting Naples
24. 179
1465. July. His expedition against Anguillera 179
” Nov. Death of Malatesta Novello of Cesena
20. 180
1466. Jan. His state annexed to the Church by Count Federigo 180
” Mar. 8. Death of Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan 180
” ” Count Federigo goes to Milan 181
” June 6. Is reappointed captain-general by Duke Galeazzo
Maria Sforza 181
” ” Returns home 181
” The protracted tranquillity and glory of Italy 182
1465. July 12. Murder of Giacomo Piccinino at Naples 183
1464. Aug. 1. Death of Cosimo de' Medici, Pater patriæ 184

1464- State of parties in Florence
1466. 184
1466- The exiles engage Colleoni to invade Tuscany
1467. 185
1467. May Federigo's honourable condotta by the League
15. 185
” July 25. Battle of La Molinella in the Bolognese, where field
artillery was first used 187
” ” Giovanni della Rovere distinguishes himself 187
1468. Federigo visits the Duke of Milan 190
” June. Sent by him to meet his bride at Genoa 190
” July. Returns home 190
” Sept. Recalled to Milan 190
” Oct. Presented by him with a palace in that city 190
” Nov. Reduces Brisella 190
1469. Jan. Commissioned by him to wait upon the Emperor 190
” March Returns home
1. 190
1468. Oct. 9. Death of Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta 191
” His character and tastes 191
” His service in the Morea 194
” Pretensions of his son Roberto on Rimini 195
” The Pontiff outwitted by him 195
1469. Rimini besieged by Alessandro Sforza 196
” Aug. Great victory of Federigo near Rimini
30. 199
” ” His generosity 200
” Nov. Roberto regains his father's state 201
1470. Federigo in high favour with Galeazzo Maria 200
” Rupture of the League from foolish jealousies 200
1469. Dec. 3. Death of Pietro de' Medici 201
1470. Dec. The League renewed
22. 201
” July 7. Federigo's letters to the Signory of Siena 201

1471. ” Death of Paul II.
28. 202
” Roberto Malatesta invested with Rimini 203
1472. Mar. Marries Princess Elisabetta of Urbino
28. 203
” April. Note as to his title of Magnificent 203
1471. Federigo attends the coronation of Sixtus IV. 203
” Entertains the Persian envoys at Urbino 204
1472. Entertains Cardinal Pietro Riario at Gubbio 205

CHAPTER X

1472. Jan. 24. His son Guidobaldo born at Gubbio 207
” June Captures Volterra; its sack
18. 211
” ” Misstatements regarding his great MS. Hebrew Bible 212
” ” His triumphant welcome at Florence 212
” ” His fortunate position 213
” July 6. The death of his Countess Battista 214
” ” His letters on that event 214
” ” Notice of her life and character 216
” ” Her portrait 218
” Aug. Her obsequies
17. 219
1472- Federigo at home
1474. 219
1474. Aug. He goes to Rome
20. 220
” ” Is invested with the ducal dignity
21. 220
” ” ” And is made Gonfaloniere of the Church 221
” ” Obtains the Golden Rose 221
” ” The marriage of his daughters Giovanna and Agnesina 222

” Sept. Is invested with the order of the Ermine at Naples
11. 223
” ” And with that of the Garter at Grottoferrata 224
” Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere sent against Città di
Castello 225
” Nov. 2. A new league 225
” Federigo's patronage of learned men 225
1475. Books dedicated to him 227
” Curious letter to him from the Priors of Arezzo 228
” Testimony of Vespasiano 231
” And of Giovanni Sanzi 231

CHAPTER XI

Dec. Assassination of Duke Galeazzo Maria Sforza
1476.
26. 234
” His character by Sanzi 235
1477. Jan. Federigo prepares to march upon Milan, but attacks
Montone 236
1473. Count Girolamo Riario invested with Forlì and
Imola 236
” He is betrothed to Caterina Sforza 236
” Her education and character 237
1477. Their marriage 237
” The friendship of Sixtus for Lorenzo de' Medici
soon interrupted 237
” Revolutions in Florence usually sprang from family
feuds 239
” Origin of the Pazzi conspiracy 239
1478. April It explodes; Giuliano assassinated
26. 240
” Italian conspiracies and politics 241
” The Pope is compromised 242
” Lorenzo appeals to his fellow citizens 243
” The parties to a new war in Tuscany 243
” The Duke's letter to an astrologer 244
” The campaign narrated by Federigo 245
” He breaks his leg 247
” Dec. He goes to the baths of Petriolo
23. 247
1479. May He leaves Petriolo
23. 247
” Defection of Roberto Malatesta 247
” The Florentines successful at Thrasimene, but
worsted in the Val d'Elsa 247

” Nov. Colle surrenders
12. 248
” ” Its siege painted on a bicherna (note) 248
” State of the Italian artillery 248
” Notices of it by Duke Federigo 249
” Nov. He goes to Siena and receives a donative
20. 251
” ” A truce for three months
27. 251
” The unfortunate position of Florence, and
disorganisation of its army 251
” Dec. 6. Lorenzo de' Medici goes to Naples to negotiate a
treaty 252
1480. Mar. Peace proclaimed
25. 252
” Dec. Humiliation of the Florentines before Sixtus 253
1479- Intrigues of the Duke of Calabria at Siena
1480. 253
” ” Federigo winters at the baths of Viterbo 253
” ” He receives the Sword and Hat 253
1480. May His letter to the magistrates at Siena
19. 254
” He returns home 254
” Count Girolamo takes possession of Forlì 254
” Description of his Countess 255
1474- Progress of the Turks in Europe
1479. 256
1480. Aug. They take Otranto by concert with the Venetians
11. 257
” Consequent panic in Italy, and new combinations of
its powers 257
” Federigo summoned by Ferdinand, but detained by
Sixtus 257
1481. May 3. Death of Sultan Mahomet 257

” Aug. Otranto recovered from the Turks
10. 257

CHAPTER XII

1481. Sixtus combines with the Venetians against Ferrara 258
” Federigo declines their offers, and vainly inculcates
peace 259
1482. April He is engaged to command the League in defence of
17. Ferrara 259
” ” His departure for the campaign
23. 260
” Description of the seat of war 261
” May 3. War declared by Venice 262
” ” The Venetians besiege Ficheruolo
11. 262
” ” 4. Federigo's letter to Lorenzo de' Medici 262
” ” He goes to Milan and Mantua for reinforcements 264
” ” Returns to La Stellata
20. 264
” June. Fatal effects of malaria 264
” ” Ficheruolo taken
29. 265
” July. Ferrara hard pressed, but obstinately defended by
Federigo 265
” ” His appeal to the Pontiff, who perseveres in his
schemes of nepotism 265
” ” Lawless condition of Rome 266
” ” Federigo attacked by fever, and relapses 266
” ” He resigns his command, and retires to Ferrara 267
” Sept. Prepares for death and expires
10. 267
” ” Simultaneous death of Roberto Malatesta 269
” ” Character of Duke Federigo, by Poggio Bracciolino 270
” ” By Francesco di Giorgio 270

” ” By Pirro Pirotti and Cyrneo 271
” ” By Vespasiano 272
” ” Anecdotes preserved by him 273
” ” His military commands 282
” ” His funeral 283
” ” His body subsequently exposed 283
1482. Notice of his portrait, by Piero della Francesca, with
his Countess 284
” By Mantegna, with his son 285
” By an unknown artist 286
” By Fra Carnevale 287
” By Justus of Ghent 288
” By an unknown artist 288
” His children and their marriages 289

CHAPTER XIII

1482. Retrospect for Duke Federigo's reign 295
1472. Jan. 24. Birth of his son Guidobaldo, who is confirmed by
Cardinal Bessarion 296
” July 6. Death of Guidobaldo's mother 296
” His precocious genius and sweet temper 296
” Attested by his tutor Odasio 297
1482. Sept. His father's death
17. 299
” Position of the duchy 299
” Sept. Investiture of Duke Guidobaldo I.
17. 300
” He is continued in his father's command 301
1483. Jan. 6. Sixtus deserts the Venetians, and joins the League 301
” Guidobaldo in the service of Naples 303
” July 19. Death of Costanzo Sforza of Pesaro 303
1484. Aug. Death of Sixtus IV.
13. 304

” ” And election of Innocent VIII.
29. 304
” ” Treaty of Bagnuolo
11. 305
1485. The Pontiff attacks Naples. 305
” Guidobaldo retained by him 305
” Aug. Peace restored
11. 305
1486. Guidobaldo serves under Trivulzio 306
” The regency of Ottaviano Ubaldini terminates 306
1488. April The assassination of Count Girolamo Riario, and
14. revolution at Forlì 307
” Energetic measures of his widow 307
” The regulations and manners of the court of Urbino 309
” Duke Guidobaldo betrothed to Elisabetta Gonzaga of
Mantua 311
1489. Oct. Their marriage and disappointment of children 312
1490. Comparative repose of Italy 313
1492. April 7. Death of Lorenzo de' Medici 314
” July 25, And of the Pope
29. 314
” Aug. Succeeded by Alexander VI.
11. 314

CHAPTER XIV

Condition of the papacy on the accession of Alexander
1492.
VI. 315
” His family descent and debauched life 316
” Circumstances of his election 317
” His children and their scandalous conduct 318
” Pedigree of the Borgia 320
” The aspect of Italy at the close of her golden age 321
” Described by Guicciardini 322

” Sketch of the disputed succession of Naples, and its
results 322
” The condition of Milan and Venice 325
” And of Florence 326
” Character of Charles VIII. of France, and his views
upon Italy 327
” Negotiations for an Italian League frustrated by Pietro
de' Medici 328
” State of the Roman Campagna and its rival barons 329
” Their feuds fire the train 331
” Ludovico il Moro invites Charles into Italy 331
1493. Military circumstances of Italy 332
” The condottiere system gradually abandoned 333
” Condemned by Machiavelli 334
” A new system introduced 335
” Lances, stradiotes, and infantry 335
” The Swiss infantry 337
” The lansquenets and Spaniards 338
” Introduction of fire-arms and artillery 338

CHAPTER XV

1494. Jan. Alfonso II. succeeds to the crown of Naples 341
” Position of the Italian powers at the invasion of
Charles VIII. 341
” Alfonso's efforts to conciliate the Pontiff and his
children 342
” His son Cesare made Cardinal Valentino 343
” The Pope employs Guidobaldo against the Orsini 344
” His first attack of gout 344
” The marriage of Lucrezia Borgia to Giovanni Sforza
of Pesaro 344
” Its scandalous orgies 345
” June. Her visit to Urbino 345

” Double-dealing of Alexander with Alfonso 345
” The calamities of the French invasion 346
” Description of Charles VIII. by Guicciardini 346
” And by Mantegna 347
” And by Ludovico il Moro 347
” The campaign opened by Sir Bernard Stuart of
Aubigny 348
” Aug. Charles leaves Vienne and reaches Milan
20. 348
” Alfonso alone prepares to oppose him 348
” Sends the Duke of Calabria into Romagna 348
” He is supported by the Duke of Urbino, but without
avail 348
” Nov. 9. Tuscany welcomes Charles, and expels the Medici 349
” This revolution graphically described 350
” Financial expedient proposed at Florence 351
” Dec. Charles enters Rome
31. 351
1495. Jan. 28. Leaves it for Naples 351
” ” 23. Alfonso abdicates the crown, and dies soon after 351
” ” Succeeded by his son Ferdinand II., who retires to
Ischia 352
” ” 22. Charles takes possession of Naples 352
” Mar. A new League formed against the French
31. 352
1494. Oct. Ludovico il Moro becomes Duke of Milan 353
1495. The demoralisation of the French army 353
” May It leaves Naples
20. 353
” July 6. Battle of the Taro, at Fornovo 354
” Oct. It re-enters France 354
” July. Ferdinand II. restored at Naples 354
1496. Whose French garrison surrenders 355
” Results to Italy of this invasion 355

1495. The Pisan war, in which Guidobaldo was engaged by
the Florentines 356
” Their conduct leads to fresh discord 356
” And to an invasion by Maximilian 357
” Guidobaldo recalled by the Pope to aid in restoring
Ferdinand II. 357
1496. Oct. Who dies soon after 358
” ” Peace again troubled by Alexander, who attacks the
Orsini 358
” ” Aided by Guidobaldo 358
” His petty campaign against Bracciano 359
1497. Jan. 23. Is beaten, and taken prisoner 360
” The Venetian Signory interfere in his behalf 361
” A heavy ransom extorted from him with the Pope's
connivance 361

CHAPTER XVI

1497. Ambitious nepotism of Alexander VI. 363
” Divorce of Lucrezia 363
” June Murder of the Duke of Gandia
15. 364
” ” ” Its mystery and scandals 364
” ” ” Its effect upon the public 366
” ” ” And on the Pope 366
” ” His oration, repentance, and relapse
19. 366
” Followed by new favours to Cesare Borgia 369
” Sept. 5 Who returns from his Neapolitan embassy a rejected
suitor 369
1498. Aug. Marriage of Lucrezia to the Duke of Bisceglia 369
” Guidobaldo's expedition against the Baglioni of
Perugia 369

” He is engaged by the Medici to arm for their
restoration to Florence 370
” Failure of the expedition 370
” His illness at Bibbiena 370
1499. He adopts his nephew Francesco Maria della Rovere,
as heir of the dukedom 371
1498. April 7. Death of Charles VIII. 372
” ” Succeeded by Louis XII. 372
” His views upon Italy 372
” State of parties there 372
” Ambition of Alexander to secure to Cesare a
sovereignty 373
” Sept. His ecclesiastical orders annulled, and his embassy to
17. Paris with the King's divorce 373
” ” Letter of the Pope to Louis
28. 374
” By whom Cesare is created Duke Valentino 375
” He aspires to the crown of Naples 375
” His magnificence 375
1499. Again rejected by a Neapolitan princess 375
” His intrigues as to Louis' divorce 375
” A new league against the French proposed 376
” The marriage of Duke Valentino 376
” Oct. 6. The French conquer Lombardy and enter Milan 377
” June. Guidobaldo's visit to Venice, and condotta by the
Signory 377

CHAPTER XVII

1499. Valentino's schemes upon Romagna 379
” Its condition, as detailed by Sismondi 379
” Strictures upon his views 383
” Valentino marches upon Imola 384
” Our last notice of Caterina Riario Sforza 384

” Dec. He takes that town, and goes to Rome
31. 385
1500. Ludovico il Moro carried captive to France 385
” The prodigality of the Borgia 386
” Supplied by sacrilege and simony 387
” Oct. Cesare, supported by the French, seizes Pesaro
27. 388
1501. April And Faenza; murder of its princes
22. 389
” He is made Duke of Romagna 389
” Sismondi's eulogy on his administration 389
” Imitating Machiavelli and Filosseno 390
” But contradicted by Sanuto 391
” The true spirit of his government 392
” Arrested in his designs upon Bologna and Florence 392
” Sept. 3. Seizes upon Piombino 393
” Louis invades Naples 393
” Its partition betwixt France and Spain 394
” Abdication of Federigo of Naples; he retires to France,
where he died in 1504 394
1503. His kingdom passes to Spain 394
1501. New crimes and intrigues of the Borgia 395
” Lucrezia's fourth marriage to the Prince of Ferraro 396
1502. Jan. 18. She visits Urbino on her way home 397
” Her reformed life 397
1519. June. Letter of condolence on her death 397

CHAPTER XVIII

1502. Guidobaldo's retired life 399
1500. Visits Rome for the Jubilee 399
1501. Nov. 6. Death of his brother-in-law the Prefect 399
1502. April Succeeded by his son Francesco Maria
24. 399

” The Duchess of Urbino at Venice 400
” New schemes of Valentino 400
” June He surprises Urbino
20. 401
” ” The Duke narrates his flight to Mantua
28. 401
” ” Further details 407
” He finds refuge in Venice 409
” Improbable rumour regarding him 409
” June Cesare enters Urbino
21. 410
” And seizes Camerino 411
1502. His brutal character 411
” He goes to Milan, and justifies himself with Louis XII 412
” His lust of further sway 412
” Sept. Diet at La Magione of the menaced princes 412
1502. Character of Liverotto da Fermo 412
” Oct. 5. S. Leo lost to Valentino and retaken 413
” ” 8. Letter from him (note) 414
” ” A general rising throughout Urbino 414
” ” Cruelly checked by Don Michelotto 415
” ” But supported by the confederates of Magione 415
” ” Valentino retrieves himself, and recruits his forces 415
” ” Guidobaldo returns and is welcomed
18. 416
” ” Valentino wins back the confederates
28. 418
” Dec. 8. Finding resistance vain, the Duke retires in broken
health 419
1503. Jan. 27. His despatch to the Doge of Venice 422
” ” 31. And narrative of his escape to that city 423

APPENDICES

Authors in the family of Montefeltro 427
Specimens of their compositions 428
Wardrobe inventory of Sister Serafina 433
Poetry of Ottaviano Ubaldini 436
Concessions of Duke Federigo to the citizens on his
election in 1444 438
Devices and mottoes of the Dukes of Urbino 443
Illuminated MSS. in the Urbino Library 446
The MS. Hebrew Bible 446
The MS. Latin Bible 447
The MS. Dante 448
The MS. Lives of the Dukes of Urbino 449
Duke Federigo made a Knight of the Garter 450
His letters to Edward IV. and the English courtiers 450
Anstis' account of it 456
Sanzi's account of it 457
Porcellio's account of it 459
Army of Charles VIII. in 1493 460
Battle of the Taro in 1495 463
Duke Valentino's arrival at the French court in 1498 468
Ludovico il Moro's entry into Lyons in 1500 470
Marcello Filosseno's sonnet on Italy 472
Lucrezia d'Este's marriage festivities at Ferrara, 1502 473

Note.—The Editor's notes are marked with an asterisk.

BOOK FIRST
OF URBINO AND ITS EARLY COUNTS

MEMOIRS OF THE
DUKES OF URBINO
CHAPTER I
Topography of the Duchy of Urbino—Origin of the Italian communities—
Their civil institutions and military system—Their principle of liberty
—Political divisions of Romagna; opposed to modern speculations
regarding centralization.

T
HE country which composed the Duchy of Urbino, and which
nearly corresponds with the modern Legation of Urbino and Pesaro,
is situated upon the eastern fall of Central Italy, between the 43rd
and 44th parallels of north latitude. It stretches along the Adriatic,
and extends about forty miles in length, and as many in breadth. From the
Apennine ridge to the coast, it includes modifications of surface, climate,
and soil, suited to a variety of natural productions, and admirably calculated
for the development of the human frame. On the summit grew those
magnificent pines which gave to the district of Massa the epithet of
Trabaria, from the beams which were carried thence for the palaces of
Rome, and which are noticed by Dante as

"The living rafters on the back
Of Italy."

Below these stretched forests of chestnut and oak, succeeded by hardy
orchard trees, and in the lower grounds by the olive and vine, to which its
ever broken and undulating surface is peculiarly favourable. Through
numberless ravines are conveyed copious streams, supplying abundant
water-power for grinding rich harvests, grown in the alluvial valleys, and in
the plains which open upon the sea. From its shores are drawn ample
supplies of fish. Its mountains and manors abounded in game, so long as
that was protected by resident princes. In its rugged Apennines, which

around Cagli tower to the height of 5000 feet, no valuable minerals have
been discovered; nor do its mountain torrents admit of navigation, but with
two coast-harbours this was scarcely felt as a privation.
For the topography of the duchy our chief authority is Cimarelli, who wrote
about two centuries ago, and who begins it about forty years after the flood!
It was an absurd whim of Italian mediæval authors, which has prevailed
almost till the present day, to wander among the traditional or imaginary
cycles of remote ages, extolling the antiquity of their theme at a sacrifice of
truth and credibility. Into such extravagances we shall not be tempted. It is
enough to say that this district formed part of ancient Umbria, and is in
some degree identical with that known to Roman history as Gallia Senonia.
When the Western Empire crumbled to pieces, it was broken up into many
petty communities, some of which adopted for themselves republican
institutions, while others fell into the hands of military adventurers, who
transmitted their sway to their descendants in hereditary right, founded
upon personal enterprise or the consent of their subjects. After the nominal
regimen of the occidental empire had been transferred across the Alps, these
new communities and counts often sought from its titular emperor a
confirmation of their self-constituted rights. This demand, recognising in
name a sovereignty already substantially theirs, was willingly accorded as
the basis of a transaction flattering to one party, momentous to the other.
But the gradually opening ambition of the Church, and the extension of her
temporal rule into Romagna and La Marca by the donations of Pepin,
Charlemagne, and the Countess Matilda, introduced another competitor for
dominion in these provinces. Her claim was made good, in some cases by a
voluntary surrender on the part of men whose piety prevailed over their
love of power, in others by force of arms; but by most of the mountain
chiefs, and by a few of the free towns, loyalty to the emperor's shadowy
authority was used as a pretext for resisting a new element which threatened
their own sway. The two rival parties which sprang out of these
circumstances came to be distinguished as Guelph and Ghibelline, although
their watchwords were often adopted by local or temporary factions.
Many circumstances tended to an extensive establishment of political
independence among the small states thus formed in Italy during the Middle
Ages. Distance and the unsettled state of the Peninsula having reduced to
little more than a name the direct imperial sovereignty of

"That imperious bird,
Whose double beak a double prey devours,"[10]

the emperors endeavoured to render it still available to their political
importance, through the intervention of military vicegerents. To each of
these a certain territory was conveyed, generally with the title of count,
which they were understood to govern for behoof of the empire. Practically,
however, they were nearly secure against any strict accounting for their
stewardship, and, provided they attended the imperial banner in the field
with a befitting following, paid with tolerable regularity the annual cense,
or contribution exigible under their tenure, and did homage as vassals at the
imperial coronations, they were allowed to enjoy or abuse unquestioned
what rights of sovereignty they thought fit to assume. Nor was there any
effective check upon the marauding spirit of conquest, which in that age
formed the natural outlet of personal ambition; and these feudatories were
left to fight with their neighbours whenever their swords were not called
into requisition by their common over-lord: still more were they allowed to
deal undisturbed with the people submitted to their jurisdiction, who were
of course presumed to endure and obey.
At a period nearly coeval with the formation of these independent fiefs, and
much antecedent to the aggregation of civic communities in other parts of
Europe, we find the peninsular towns advancing into importance. Their
establishment was favoured by the absence of a perfect feudal organisation,
[*11] for men exempt from such fetters associated together more readily than
those in transalpine lands. The fertility of the soil, and consequent density
of population, admitted of cultivators congregating in homes of their own
choice; and the malaria generated in that luxurious climate often rendered
isolated dwellings insalubrious.[*12] The peasant-hamlets thus formed were
quickly augmented by the influx of all who sought protection from external
foes or tyrannical masters. The increase of population brought strength;
strength gave security; security attracted wealth and numbers; and these
united elements created intelligence and public spirit, the only sure basis of
liberty. Their first necessity being self-defence, their dwellings were placed
in sites of natural strength, and soon girt by walls. The enemies they most
dreaded were the adjoining lords, to whose jurisdiction they nominally
belonged, but whose claims they were not unfrequently able to meet, either
by formidable resistance, or by a charter of privileges, which the emperors,

ever willing to curb their barons, were seldom loath to accord. The
independence thus wrung from the counts was cemented by the spirit of
civic liberty, while the development of municipal strength and privileges
gave to citizens a social and political pre-eminence over the rural
population, beyond what they attained in countries where feudalism served
to link the agricultural class with the central authority. Among men united
for a common object, and thrown upon their own resources, the popular
element early developed itself. Such communities finding themselves
without a master, a position which, when real freedom was unknown, only
exposed them to attacks from stronger neighbours, their instinct of self-
preservation, ere long, induced attempts at self-government. Townships
consequently multiplied, developed themselves into cities, and became
republics.
Thus rose the Italian republics, not as is often superficially supposed, in the
mercantile cities alone, but in almost every township of Upper Italy. Their
constitutional forms not only varied from each other, but were constantly
fluctuating, under a desire for novelty, the contests of rival factions, and the
influence of external events. Republics they were, in so far as they owned
no hereditary head. They believed themselves self-governed, because their
ever-recurring revolutions were their own act, or at least were effected by
their own instrumentality. But the democratic element seldom long existed
in purity.[*13] After the émeute was over, a self-constituted oligarchy, a rich
and designing citizen, or an ambitious prelate, often stepped in, to enjoy
that power for which the people had fought, until these, roused by some too
undisguised tyranny, or by some new caprice, rushed to the piazza, and
threw off their masters, leaving it to chance or intrigue to give them new
ones.
Lamartine, the eloquent advocate and partially successful hero of popular
rights, has admitted that there can be no progress unless "many interests are
injured," and that "such transformations are not operated without great
resistance, without an infinity of anguish and private misfortune." This,
however, is no place to raise the question, how far the benefit of so much
political liberty was balanced by the inadequate guarantee of person and
property, inherent in such a state of things, or whether the security of
domestic peace would have been too dearly purchased by a partial sacrifice
of popular power. Yet few who argue these points will deny that whatever

influence the republican constitutions of Italy may have had upon the
individual happiness of their own citizens, they sowed the seeds of that
intelligence, that freedom of thought, that ardent aspiration for the
amelioration of mankind, which have ever since so beneficially acted upon
European civilisation.
The liberty of Italian republics has been frequently misapprehended, and
will disappoint those who seek in it such safeguards of life and property as
freedom in its modern sense is understood to afford. Under no form of
civilised government were those guarantees more feeble or ineffective than
where tyranny of the wayward and irresponsible many was substituted for
domination by one. The philosophic Guizot has even condemned these
republics as "utterly irreconcilable with security for life (that first ingredient
in social existence) and with progress;" as "incapable of developing
freedom or extending the scope of institutions;" as tending to "limit their
range and concentrate authority in a few individuals." To these conclusions
we must demur, and they appear inconsistent with the just tribute he
gracefully pays to the intelligence, wealth, and brilliancy of Italian
democracies; to the courage, activity, genius, and general prosperity of their
denizens. But the argument and inferences of this French historian are
easily reconcilable with a political creed largely prevailing among his
countrymen, who find in centralisation the triumph of our age, the panacea
for social anomalies. To that end has doubtless tended the progress of
Europe during the last four centuries, and more especially the present rapid
career of events, whether for ultimate weal or woe must be hereafter seen.
Yet whilst we hesitate to paint the Ausonian republics in the utopian colours
of Sismondi, we cannot adopt the narrow proportions ascribed to them by
his less enthusiastic countryman. They filled the Peninsula with separate
aims and paltry interests at a time when union was its sole security, yet they
trained men to self-government, the first step towards that constitutional
freedom without which nationality itself is a questionable boon.
The growth of communities opposed by every interest to the domination of
the imperial counts was viewed by these with natural jealousy. But in many
instances their alarm proved groundless, as eventually some of them came
to swell the very power which they were originally established to limit.
Those towns which, from the fault of their site or other incidental
circumstances, did not increase in population and wealth, found themselves

defenceless in a land where might made right. They therefore often passed,
after a more or less feeble resistance, under the sway of some powerful
feudatory, or, by voluntary surrender of their unsubstantial independence,
sought from his strong arm protection against the grasp of more dreaded
neighbours, or redress from the ravages of rival factions which lacerated
their internal repose. The title usually assumed with the authority thus
acquired was that of Signore, which in the following pages is generally
rendered by Lord or Seigneur, there being no term in our idiom adapted to
express exactly a jurisdiction at no time known to our constitution, but
resembling the "tyranny" of the old Greek commonwealths. The same word
is used to designate those citizens or military adventurers who, by force or
popular consent, acquired a temporary or enduring mastery in the free
towns of the Peninsula. Widely different in its exercise as in its origin from
feudal jurisdiction, the power which had thus been more or less derived
from the people was for the most part temperately wielded. The territorial
baron dwelt among his citizen subjects, conforming to their usages and
encouraging their progressive civilisation. His authority was originally
personal, but in many instances it was skilfully used as a foundation for
family claims, which talent or influence enabled a series of persons of the
same race to make good. But, as in Celtic chieftainship, rules of hereditary
succession were less attended to than individual fitness for the change.
Younger branches often excluded the elder ones, and in some cases, such as
the Malatesta,
"The bastard slips of old Romagna's line,"
illegitimacy seems to have been practically a recommendation.[*14] To those
at all conversant with Italian history, it may be superfluous to add that,
while some of these petty sovereigns

"Did fret and strut their hour upon the stage,
And then were heard no more,"

others, more able or more fortunate, founded dynasties to which, as
promoters of commerce, literature, and the fine arts, modern civilisation is
largely indebted, and from whom are descended several reigning families of
Europe.

No circumstance more generally affected all governments in Italy, or is of
more importance to a comprehension of their history, than the contests of
the Guelphs and Ghibellines. Upon this wide and complicated topic it is
unnecessary now to enter, further than to state, as a general rule, that the
feudatories adhered to the emperor, whilst the self-governed communities
were more partial to the Guelphic or papal faction. This was natural, as the
Ghibelline or imperial party was essentially opposed to democratic
tendencies, while the Church had, from various causes, become almost
identified with popular principles. But the distinction was often
inapplicable; for these words underwent the usual fate of party epithets,
changing and counterchanging their signification with time and place, until
the original meaning was lost, though their fatal influence on human
passions remained unmodified. For alas! in all ages,

"Some watchword for the fight
Must vindicate the wrong, and warp the right;
Religion, freedom, vengeance, what you will,
A word's enough to rouse mankind to kill."

Thus, free cities which, like Florence, were regarded as strongholds of the
Guelphs, were occasionally by a sudden revolution thrown into the hands of
the opposite faction; even the Ghibelline nobles were sometimes induced,
by ambition or pique, to make their peace with the Church; whilst more
unprincipled holders of power sought to extend it by alternately selling their
services to either party, and in turn betraying both. It also happened that
counts of the empire, on obtaining the seigneury of towns, found these so
much the most valuable portion of their dignities, that they were glad to
strengthen their title to them by accepting papal investitures, instead of
holding them by the sword, or by popular will. The pontiffs readily
promoted a device, which converted into ostensible supremacy the vague
and undefined claims they asserted to temporal domination, whether arising
out of Countess Matilda's donation, or from other disputed titles; and they
hesitated not to include even imperial countships in their charters. They thus
transferred to the Holy See feudal presentations of money and military
service which were legitimately due to the emperors, whose waning
influence in Italy rendered such usurpations little hazardous; whilst the
vassals, suiting themselves to the change of times, were content to hold
their sovereignty as vicars of the Church, instead of as counts of the empire.

Little did they deem that the rising sun, which they were thus prompt to
worship, would eventually consume them, root and branch!
Yet the tenures and investitures of these seigneuries constituted but a
pseudo-feudalism, resting upon a basis entirely different from that of the
barons of northern nations. Among the latter, land, as the only known
element of political power, was monopolised by the sovereign, who doled it
out, under such conditions as he deemed fit, to those whose good swords
were best able to defend it and the donor. The principle thus diffused from
the centre radiated through the mass. The nobles parcelled out their great
estates in various portions among friends and dependents, military service
being the consideration chiefly exacted, in times when a circulating medium
was scanty, and the pecuniary wants much restricted. This system
established two main results. The hardy and patriotic soldiery who peopled
the rural territory were the nerve of the nation, whilst the landless
population, being destitute of individual importance, gradually drew
together for mutual support, and settled in communities under the protection
of some powerful lord or influential monastery. But in the Ausonian
peninsula natural causes induced gregarious habits and social influences,
whereby the peaceful pursuits of trade and money-making were promoted.
An efficient soldiery was, however, rendered requisite for the small states
by the very circumstances which most contributed to their general
prosperity,—their numbers and near neighbourhood, the competition of
commercial communities, the struggles of political or family factions. Yet in
proportion to the development of that prosperity, and the increase of wealth
and refinement, the reluctance of substantial and sedentary citizens became
more decided to the inconveniences and hardships of the field. For them the
art of war was scarcely less a calamity than its miseries; the more they had
to lose, the less willing or able were they to defend it. There are few evils in
life which money may not remedy or alleviate, and when it was found that
substitutes could be hired to relieve them from military service, the problem
was satisfactorily solved. Fighting became a separate profession, and its
duties no longer distracted those who had other occupations. Thus arose the
condottiere system, by which any bold baron or experienced captain, having
formed round his banner a corps of tried and daring spirits, leased their
services and his own for a stipulated term and price. Their whole
arrangements being avowedly mercenary, they had no patriotism, no

preference for standards or watchwords. The highest offer secured them,
and when their engagement expired, or their pay fell into arrear, they were
free to pass over to the enemy, or seek any other master. But besides their
fixed stipend, they had perquisites from the hazards of war: the ransom of
rich prisoners accrued to the leaders, while the soldiery were glutted by the
occasional booty of a sacked city.
The changes occasioned by this system influenced Italy in its military,
political, and social relations. Formerly, a truce disarmed the combatants,
and sent them to forget their discipline in their domestic duties. Now, one
campaign followed another, teaching the same free companies new
evolutions and more perfect lessons in martial science; or if a piping time of
general peace ever arrived, their leaders scrupled not to keep them in
practice by a private adventure of pillage against some feeble victim, until
they should be required for the fresh contests which a few months were sure
to develop. Their armour, accoutrement, and drill thus became more
complicated; men-at-arms and lances were considered the only effective
troops. But their efficiency was counteracted by another result of
stipendiary warfare. Exempt from enthusiasm in any cause, their tactics
became a money question. To close a campaign by a series of brilliant
successes was to kill the goose that gave them the golden eggs: to carry
havoc into the adverse ranks was damaging to those who might be their
next paymasters or comrades. Sanguinary conflicts brought them danger
without advantage, whilst the capture of an opponent or a camp ensured for
them a rich prize. War was, in fact, a game which they were paid to play,
with no interest in the stakes beyond their individual opportunities of
plunder. Equally indifferent to past victories or future fame, they cared little
for beating the enemy, could they but reach his baggage-waggons, or
temporise until he could buy them off. Battles, thus deprived of their
dangers and stirring incidents, became great prize-fights, in which the
victors deserved no sympathy, and the conquered required no
commiseration. Gain was substituted for glory, languor for gallantry,
calculation for courage. Patriotism slumbered; honesty of purpose and
energy of action fell into disuse; the parties in the match, careless of victory,
manœuvred only for stalemate. Hence the political results of Italian
campaigns were inconsiderable, compared with the forces in the field, the
time consumed, and the resources expended. Impoverished states were

generally left without defenders and even wealthy belligerents were liable
to a sudden and immediate desertion by their hireling bands. Still more fatal
were the moral effects upon the people. The feudal system rendered every
occupier of the soil a soldier, ready to stand by his king and country; and it
transmitted to more peaceful times "a bold peasantry, their country's pride"
and best defenders. But it was otherwise with the brave spirits of the
Ausonian commonwealths; they were bound to the banner of some
privileged bandit, who served the best bidder, whilst the mass of the
community became indifferent to a native land for which they were never
called upon to hazard life or limb. The stipendiaries fought for or against
freedom, faith, country, and comrades; the citizens endured their outrage or
purchased their mercy. In the end, the military were brutalised, whilst the
civilians became enervated. The former were made venal, the latter
cowardly. The master-mind of Machiavelli, after the French invasions of
1492-9, saw these mischiefs, and would have remedied them by his plan for
a civic militia; but it was too late, and the degeneracy engrafted upon the
national character of Italy by the condottiere system still cankers it to the
core.

Although the states which grew up under these varying circumstances are
universally known as the Italian Republics, this phrase is scarcely correct in
our idiom. The leading peculiarity of mediæval Italy was the separate
sovereignty of its petty principalities, and towns of minor rank, in which
democratic constitutions were but incidental and transient distinctions,
progressively disappearing as the dark ages were succeeded by a cycle of
golden radiance. The Italian Republics might, therefore, be more aptly
named the Italian Communes or Commonwealths. This misnomer has also
given rise to somewhat confused views regarding the amount of liberty
enjoyed in these states, especially since their history has become known to
us from the pen of one whose democratic prepossessions, though clothed in
eloquence, are so tempered by benevolent philosophy as those of Sismondi.
Liberty is a word of vague signification, both as to quality and degree. In a
political sense, it has at least three meanings: personal freedom, self-
government, national independence. Let us test the application of each of

these qualities to the Italian commonwealths. Neither in them nor in any
contemporary state, was freedom of person known in name or in fact.
Individuals had no guarantee against oppression by their rulers, nor security
from their powerful neighbours; no great charter constituted for them a
claim of right to personal protection. In this respect there was little
difference between the subjects of a petty autocrat and those of a
democratic faction,—between the tyranny of one or of many: but in Venice,
that most prosperous and permanent of all the commonwealths, which
Roscoe, by a happy antithesis, has described as a "republic of nobles with a
populace of slaves," and which especially arrogated the republic as its title,
individual safety was at the lowest grade.
In most of the communities, self-government, or the sovereignty of the
people, had scarcely a reality as regarded the masses. Under the seigneurs,
when the hereditary principle was weak, it was oftener supplemented or
infringed by the sword than by the popular will. In the few commonwealths
which, during the fifteenth century, preserved their democratic institutions,
such as Florence and Siena, the guilds and companies constituted indeed a
quasi-representative system; but these had generally fallen into the hands of
privileged classes, and even the shadow of power which clung to them was
constantly torn away by some ambitious burgher, or misused for the
extermination of a rival faction. Indeed, the most liberal of their
constitutions corresponded in the main to our own municipal machinery,
limiting the privileges of self-government to certain classes in the cities,
and entirely excluding from them the rural population. The value at which
these privileges were held may be estimated by the indifference of
immediately adjacent despotic states, whether languishing under the savage
tyranny of a Malatesta,[*15] or enjoying the beneficent sway of a
Montefeltro. Even when, outraged beyond endurance, they rose against
their oppressors, it was much more frequently to set up a new autocrat, than
to seize for themselves power which the example of their democratic
neighbours appears to have invested with no charm. We may therefore
fairly conclude that the self-governed citizens of Ancona, Assisi, and San
Marino, enjoyed no envied advantages over those of the surrounding
principalities, which unquestionably outshone them in historical and literary
illustration.

Since, then, the peculiar quality which infused extraordinary mental vigour
into the Italian commonwealths, and imparted to them a social influence
beyond their real importance, consisted neither in personal security nor in
self-sovereignty, it must have chiefly depended upon the only remaining
description of freedom, their nationality. By this phrase we mean not that
mere independence of foreign and barbarian sway, which it was long the
papal policy to vindicate by oceans of blood and treasure, but the
maintenance in each community of a separate and supreme political status,
frequently co-existent with municipal franchises and local administration,
but always irresponsible to neighbours or to nominal over-lords, whether
emperor or pope. The elevation of sentiment which such a position infused,
both into communities and individuals, forms the noblest feature in Italian
mediæval history. The honours, the privileges, and the responsibilities of
citizenship were thus maintained in more immediate contact with those of
the commonwealth, whereof the humblest might boast himself a
participator. Besides this, there ensued many advantages of a more material
description. By giving each small state its own capital, the wealth and
patronage belonging to a seat of government, and in most instances to a
court, were secured for it. The residence of its sovereign and officials
retained in home circulation not only the revenues of the principality, but
the income drawn by him from foreign fiefs and from military adventures.
It kept up a permanent aristocracy of talent and genius as well as of rank
and wealth, such as it was the pride of most of these courts to encourage
and protect. The practical operation of these causes may be illustrated from
the condition of Romagna and La Marca during the fifteenth century. About
one half of the present papal territory there was then divided among the
following independent states:—

Ferrara, held as a Marquisate by the d'Este.
Bologna " Seigneury " Bentivoglii.
Ravenna " " " Polenta.
Imola " " " Alidosii and Sforza.
Faenza " " " Manfredi.
Forlì " " " Ordelaffi and Riarii.
Cesena " " " Malatesta.
Rimini " " " Malatesta.

Pesaro " " " Malatesta and Sforza.
Fano " " " Malatesta.
Urbino " Dukedom " Montefeltro.
S. Angelo, &c. " Seigneury " Brancaleoni.
Città di Castello " " " Vitelli.
Perugia " " " Baglioni.
Assisi " Republic.
Foligno " Republic.
Spoleto " Dukedom, not hereditary.
Camerino " Seigneury by the Varana.
Fermo " " " Fogliani.
Ancona " Republic.
Sinigaglia " Seigneury by the della Rovere.
Mercatello " Countship " Brancaleoni.

It may seem strange that a territorial arrangement which, unless cemented
by a confederacy, is condemned by the publicist as fatal to national
strength, should have formerly ensured to Italy, as it had done to ancient
Greece, no ordinary measure of those benefits which national independence
is supposed to secure. But it is still more remarkable that the nationality
prescribed by political empiricists nowadays as a remedy for all her woes
should be directly opposed to the system under which she became the
harbinger of European improvement and civilisation. This subject, if
followed out, would lead to disquisitions, for which these pages are no
place. Enough to observe, that the centralisation which united these twenty-
two commonwealths under the papal sway, is still, after two centuries, their
standing grievance. A spirit of discontent now broods over that district,
although government is mildly administered, and taxation is moderate for a
land so productive. But twenty-two capitals have been absorbed, and
consequently humbled and empoverished. Hinc illæ lacrymæ! Yet theorists,
sweeping away ancient landmarks, and overstepping natural boundaries,
would begin their speculative ameliorations of the Ausonian peninsula by
provincialising nine of her ten remaining capitals; they would diffuse
desolation, propagate discontent, and call them nationality. The projects of
union and strength that tinge such day-dreams are met by a perhaps
insurmountable barrier, in the abundant local jealousies which have

survived the independence of multitudinous petty states, and which, as in
Spain, often amusingly startle strangers in that country.[16] When an Italian
talks with ardour of his patria, or devotes his energies to illustrate its
history or its heroes, he means not Dante's land,
"Circled by sea and Alps, parted by Apennine,"
but the village which gave him birth, or, at most, the province in which he
dwells. Such is the boasted and burning patriotism of Young Italy, however
her advocates may gloss over the fact.
These are, however, matters belonging rather to speculation than to history,
and from which it is time to return. That we have not unreasonably
questioned the tendency of the old Italian democracies to promote
individual felicity, and the safety of personal rights, may be presumed from
the dictum of one whose prepossessions are all in their favour. The views
stated in the following passage in the main bear out those observations we
have hazarded, and illustrate the tendency of republicanism, in its sternest
forms, to pass under oligarchy or despotism.
"Our ancient republicans loved their institutions, not so much in proportion
to the amount of happiness and security which they afforded to the mass, as
to the share that each individual was allowed to take in the sovereignty of
the state. Liberty was for them rather an essential element of life than a
source of enjoyment. Public spirit was the mainspring which determined all
private exertion. Freedom they understood to be the identification of every
citizen with the state. Hence patriotism gradually prevailed over liberty.
Every one was vitally interested in the advancement of his country's
greatness and power, endangered his life and property, sacrificed his
domestic comforts, and even submitted to vexatious and arbitrary laws,
whenever the safety of the republic seemed to require it. In their eagerness
to assert the supremacy of their native state, they acceded to the
concentration of power into one or a few hands, and gave rise to the
establishment of oligarchy and despotism. But those patricians and tyrants
still constituted the state, and although the sovereignty with which they had
been provisionally invested became, in their hands, oppressive and
permanent, yet those national governments were looked upon with devotion

and pride, as the emanation of popular will and the depositaries of popular
power."[17]

CHAPTER II
Origin of the Counts of Montefeltro, and of their sovereignty in Urbino
and the surrounding country—Their early genealogy—Guido, Count of
Urbino—Antonio, Count of Urbino.

T
HE first princely dynasty of Urbino affords examples of most of the
phases of mediæval jurisdiction on which we have briefly touched
in our introductory remarks.
From the mists of the dark ages which brooded over the mountains of
Central Italy, there emerged a race who gradually spread their paltry
highland holding over a broad and fair duchy. In the territories earned by
their good swords, and their faithful services to the Church, it was their
pride to foster the lessons of peace, until their state became the cradle of
science, of letters, and of art. The Counts of Montefeltro, a fief long held by
imperial grant, gradually established the seigneury over the neighbouring
town of Urbino, which thenceforth gave them their title, and in the
thirteenth century they received investiture of it from the popes. Invited in
1371 by the people of Cagli to supplant the usurping Ceccardi, and in 1384,
by those of Gubbio,[*18] to expel the tyrannical race of the Gabrielli, they
were soon recognised as Church-vassals in both. Casteldurante, partially
conquered from the Brancaleoni by Count Guidantonio, was erected into a
countship in his person by Martin V. in 1433; and his son Federigo obtained
by marriage the remaining fiefs of that family, including S. Angelo in Vado,
Mercatello, and Massa Trabaria. Fossombrone was bought by the same
Federigo in 1445, from Malatesta of Pesaro. Mondaino, Tavoleta,
Sassocorbaro, La Pergola, S. Leo, Sant'Agata, and other townships, were
wrested at intervals by the Counts of Urbino from their hereditary foes the
Malatesta. The ducal house della Rovere owed to papal nepotism the rich
endowments of Sinigaglia and Mondavio in 1474, and those of Pesaro,
Gradara, and Novilara in 1513.

Alinari
VIEW OF URBINO

The state which had thus been by degrees extended over much of Romagna
and La Marca constituted the Duchy of Urbino, and received no further
increment of territory. It contained seven episcopal cities, a number of
smaller towns, and some three or four hundred "castles," by which must be
understood fortified villages, for in that land of interminable contests, every
hamlet became a stronghold. Penna da Billi was the original capital of
Montefeltro. S. Leo, in the same wild and rugged district, was by nature one
of the most impregnable fortresses in Italy; yet we shall have to detail its
capture by surprise or treachery on three several occasions. Fano, with its
small circumjacent territory, though nearly in the middle of the duchy,
continued to hold directly of the Church.
The early lords of Montefeltro were raised to the rank of counts of that fief
by the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa about 1160, a favour which seems to
have long borne fruits in their Ghibelline principles. Their first investiture
as Church-vassals was from Honorius III., in 1216, but it was not till
towards the close of that century, that we find them designated Counts of

Urbino, a title which they used in common with Montefeltro, until the
dukedom of Urbino was conferred upon Federigo in 1474.[19] On the death
of his son, Duke Guidobaldo, in 1508, the ecclesiastical investitures fell by
failure of heirs male; but the dynasty was revived in the person of
Francesco Maria della Rovere, who happened to be nephew of Pope Julius
II. as well as of the Duke, and who thus founded the second ducal line. With
his grandson, Duke Francesco Maria II., the male investiture again ended in
1631; and the days of gross nepotism being past, Urban VIII., who then
filled the chair of St. Peter, instead of presenting the lapsed sovereignty to
his nephew Cardinal Barberini, incorporated it with the states of the
Church, and discharged the claims of consanguinity in modified measure by
appointing him the first legate of Urbino and Pesaro.

It would be quite foreign to the object of this work were we to pause on a
preliminary research into the remote antiquities of the house of
Montefeltro. Like many other distinguished Italian genealogical stems, it
had attained vigour ere modern history dawned. Nor shall we follow
tradition in its mazy attempts to trace the hardy plant from the feeble
seedling, which, whether of indigenous growth, or transalpine origin, took
root upon the Apennine cliffs of Carpegna. In the twelfth century it put forth
three leading branches, distinguished as those of Carpegna, Pietra Robbia,
and Monte Copiolo. Whilst the last of these gradually acquired an important
sovereignty, and earned undying distinction in Italian history, the eldest,
less favoured by energy, talent, or opportunity, forcibly recals the
unprofitable servant in the parable. The Counts of Carpegna continued to
hold their tiny mountain fief, with its sovereign jurisdiction, in such utter
insignificance, that their names gained no note during the centuries of
turmoil which passed over them. Their eagle nest sent forth no eagle spirits.
After the peace of 1815, the Camera apostolica, anxious to abolish
privileges no longer consonant to the altered policy of Europe, bribed the
Count with 300,000 scudi (65,000l.) to surrender the entire fief, with all its
jurisdictions and immunities, and on the following day disposed of the
allodial estates for one-fifteenth of that sum.[20]

It seems admitted that Antonio, the first Lord of Monte Copiolo, or his son
Montefeltrano, performed some important services[*21] to the Emperor
Frederick Barbarossa, when he visited Italy for his coronation in 1154, and
in return for these obtained, among other investitures, the countship of
Montefeltro. From thence arose the distinctions, and the Ghibelline
principles, which have preserved not a few names of this race in the
picturesque pages of mediæval history; but we shall not attempt from these
tattered leaves to disentangle their affiliation, or to distinguish their
respective deeds of glory. Their extending influence took the direction usual
in these days, and Urbino, the nearest township, tempting the ambition of
Buonconte, he had the address to procure a double investiture of its
sovereignty, from the Emperor Frederick II., and again, in 1216, from Pope
Honorius III., by virtue whereof he became both count and vicar of that
city. But parchments and bulls were then but imperfect title-deeds, and it
was by the sword that they in general fell to be completed. The citizens of
Urbino had hearts of oak and frames of iron wherewith to maintain their
privilege of self-government, nor was it until after a struggle of nearly
twenty years that they submitted to the seigneury of Buonconte. The
succeeding century and a half found the Counts of Urbino occupied in ever-
recurring struggles with the Church, originating from their Ghibelline
policy, and occasionally complicated by the republican aspirations of their
citizens. Upon these scenes of petty strife we need not dwell; but one of the
race was far too striking a personage to be passed over in silence.
The earliest notice we have of Count Guido, the elder, is in 1268, when the
youthful Corradino came into Italy to dispute the crown of Naples with
Charles of Anjou. At Pisa he was met by the Ghibellines of Romagna and
Tuscany: among them was the Count of Urbino, who obtained some laurels
in the subsequent brief campaign, although spared from the crushing
reverse at Tagliacozzo, having been left to maintain the imperial interests in
Rome, with the title of Senator. In after years he acted as captain-general of
the Ghibellines with such energy and judgment, that in 1281 all Romagna
was subject to his sway, and he established Forlì as the capital of his new
conquests. Martin IV. met the crisis by sending thither Giovanni di Appia,
called in the old chronicles Gianni di Pa, one of the most esteemed
condottieri of France, to sustain his interests as rector of the Church. The
siege of Forlì ensued, where Guido had recourse to one of those stratagems

which, to borrow the language of Villani, established his reputation as "a
sagacious man, more cunning than any Italian of his time, masterly alike in
war and in diplomacy." Gianni having carried Faenza by the treachery of
Tribaldello,
"Who op'ed Faenza when the people slept,"
he made similar overtures for the betrayal of Forlì, which were accepted by
order of the Count. On a stipulated day, in May, 1282, one of the gates was
abandoned to the besiegers, the garrison withdrawing by another port as
these entered. Delighted with their bloodless conquest, and deceived by the
apparent cordiality of the citizens, the advanced guard threw aside their
arms, and committing their horses to the charge of the inhabitants, prepared
to enjoy the spoil. Meanwhile Guido, whom they supposed in full retreat,
fell upon and dispersed their reserve who were posted in the plain; he then
formed his infantry in the position which the enemy had occupied, and
reentering the town with a division of cavalry, surprised the captors, who,
unprepared for resistance, fled to their rendezvous, where they fell an easy
prey to the Ghibellines at the moment they looked for support from their
friends. The success of this stratagem equalled its dexterity, and long was
the fatal day remembered, which
"Piled in bloody heap the host of France."
The Guelphic party were roused to fresh efforts, though rather of gold than
of steel: within a year, Forlì and Meldola had been surrendered to Gianni by
their inhabitants, and in 1286, Guido, having made his peace with the Pope,
was absolved from excommunication.
But this reconciliation was short-lived. Within three years he merited new
censures, by accepting from the Pisans the command of their troops against
the Guelphs of Florence and Lucca, along with the seigneury of their
republic. Whilst he held that authority, the fearful tragedy of Count Ugolino
was perpetrated in the Torre della fame, but we may presume him guiltless
of its horrors, since neither the naive narrative of Villani, nor the
magnificent episode of Dante, alludes to his name, whilst impugning that
cold-blooded murder. Meanwhile the people of Urbino had taken advantage
of his absence and embarrassments to rally for their freedom round the
papal banner. Wearied of these struggles, and fretting under their penal

consequences, he once more humbled himself before his ecclesiastical
superior, and obtained absolution in May, 1295.[*22] It was probably the
cordial reception which his overtures met from Celestine V., that obtained
for that pontiff, after his canonisation, a high degree of devotional repute
among the people of Urbino. The romance of most men's lives goes by in
youth; that of Count Guido was reserved for his declining years. Embued
with the devotional enthusiasm which St. Francis evoked from the
mountains of Umbria, he deemed the Pontiff's pardon an inadequate
expiation of his accumulated rebellions. Casting aside the gauds of
sovereignty, sheathing the sword which he had never drawn but to conquer,
he assumed the cord and cowl of the new order, and in the holy cells of
Assisi, sought that peace which it had been the aim of his previous life to
trouble.
This monastic seclusion, upon which he entered about the close of 1296,
was, however, ere long, broken in upon by one of the most remarkable
pontiffs that has occupied the chair of St. Peter, whom we must briefly
introduce to the reader. Boniface VIII., of the ancient Roman house of
Gaetani, was elected in the end of 1294, to supply the vacancy occasioned
by the abdication of Celestine V., a visionary anchorite, whom six months'
experience had convinced that the triple tiara was a load ill-suited to his
brows. His resignation was chiefly brought about by the intrigues of
Cardinal Gaetani, of whom Celestine is said to have predicted that he would
attain to the papacy by the arts of a fox, rule it with the fury of a lion, and
die the death of a dog. Chosen at an age already much exceeding the
ordinary span of human life, Boniface wielded his sovereignty with a
boldness of will and an energy of purpose rarely found even in the prime of
manhood; and dying at eighty-six, he had in nine years shaken the thrones
of many monarchs, by pretensions and intrigues untried by his
predecessors. It would be foreign to our purpose to trace his career, and to
reconcile the various and contradictory estimates of his character: those
who wish to glance at the state of this controversy may consult the pages of
two recent periodicals, in which the respective views of ultra Romanist and
Protestant writers are ably developed.[23]
But to the point which more especially regards our subject, the feuds
between Boniface and the house of Colonna. The validity of his election
had been early questioned, and was long disputed, on the ground that the

rights of his predecessor, as a legally chosen pope, were indefeasible by
abdication. Such doubts, it may be well conceived, the fiery spirit of
Boniface could ill brook, and upon a rumour that two cardinals, sons of
Giovanni Colonna, had been heard to express them, he at once summoned
them to his presence to state their opinion upon that delicate point. This was
in 1296, after the Pontiff's fierce character had been amply developed by a
reign of two years; and these cardinals instantly withdrew from Rome to the
strongholds of their family, from whence they issued an answer,
respectfully avowing their misgivings as to the matter in question, and
offering to submit them to the decision of a general council. But their flight,
and the delay of a few days, had been construed by the haughty Vicar of
Christ as acts of contumacy; and even before their offensive manifesto
reached him, he had directed the thunders of the Church against the two
Colonna, visiting on their devoted heads the accumulated offences of all
their line, without allowing them an opportunity of explanation or defence.
The bull of excommunication proceeds, with more than wonted elaboration
of abusive epithets, to designate the obnoxious race, as "detested by their
dependants, troublesome to their neighbours, enemies to the community,
rebels against the Church, turbulent in the city, fractious to their allies,
thankless to their benefactors, unwilling to obey, incapable of command,
devoid of humility, agitated by passion, fearless of God, regardless of man."
A general proscription of their whole family and adherents, and a
sequestration of their vast property, was followed up by the siege of
Palestrina, their principal fief. Finding his exertions unequal to the
reduction of that fortress, Boniface bethought him of the military
experience of the old Ghibelline monk of Montefeltro, and demanded of
him counsel, silencing his religious scruples by a preliminary absolution for
the sin of reverting to worldly schemes. Thus pressed, Count Guido advised
recourse to deceitful promises as the surest means of conquest; and "the
bard of hell," who is an authority for this passage in his life, hence consigns
him to the doom of an impenitent sinner. But let us hear the poet, through
the version of Carey:—

"A man of arms at first; I clothed me then
In good Saint Francis' girdle, hoping so
To have made amends. And certainly my hope
Had failed not, but that he whom curses light on,

The high priest, again seduced me into sin;
And how and wherefore listen while I tell.
Long as the spirit moved the bones and pulp
My mother gave me, less my deeds bespake
The nature of the lion than the fox:
All ways of winding subtlety I knew,
And with such art conducted that the sound
Reached the world's limit. Soon as to that part
Of life I found me come, when each behoves
To lower sails and gather in the lines,
That which before had pleased me then I rued,
And to repentance and confession turned;
Wretch that I was, and well it had bested me!
The chief of the new Pharisees meantime,
Waging his warfare near the Lateran,
Not with the Saracens or Jews (his foes
All Christians were, nor against Acre one
Had fought, nor trafficked in the Soldan's land),
He his great charge nor sacred ministry
In himself reverenced, nor in me that cord
Which used to mark with leanness whom it girded.
As in Soracte Constantine besought,
To cure his leprosy, Silvester's aid;
So me to cure the fever of his pride
This man besought. My counsel to that end
He asked, and I was silent, for his words
Seemed drunken: but forthwith he thus resumed:
'From thy heart banish fear; of all offence
I hitherto absolve thee. In return,
Teach me my purpose so to execute,
That Palestrina cumber earth no more.
Heaven, as thou knowest, I have the power to shut
And open, and the keys are therefore twain,
The which my predecessor meanly prized.'
Then yielding to these forceful arguments,
And deeming silence yet more perilous,
I answered, 'Father, since thou washest me

Clear of that guilt wherein I now must fall,—
Large promise with performance scant right sure
Shall make thee triumph in thy lofty seat.'
When I was numbered with the dead, then came
Saint Francis for me; but a cherub dark
He met, who cried, 'Wrong me not! he is mine,
And must below to join the wretched crew,
For the deceitful counsel which he gave:'
E'er since I've watched him, hovering at his hair.
No power can the impenitent absolve,
For to repent and will can ne'er consist,
By contradiction absolute forbid.
Oh misery! how I shook myself when he
Seized me and cried, 'Thou haply thoughtst me not
A disputant in logic so exact!'
To Minos down he bore me, and the judge
Twined eight times round his callous back the tail,
Which, biting with excess of rage, he spake,
'This is a guilty soul that in the fire
Must vanish!' Hence, perdition doomed, I rove,
A prey to rankling sorrow in this garb."
Carey's Inferno, xxvii.

Such is the passage that has given a celebrity to Count Guido, which neither
his prowess nor his alleged treachery could have conferred.[*24] Yet there
are not wanting doubts as to the fidelity of this picture of his latter days;
indeed, the whole charge against him in the affair of the Colonnas has been
considered apocryphal by the apologists of Boniface VIII., and is rejected
by Franciscan writers. Villani, whilst confirming the fact that the chiefs of
that lawless race were cajoled by the Pontiff into a surrender of "their noble
fortress" upon terms which were shamefully violated, drops no hint that
Guido was a party to the fraud. Nor is there any reason to suppose his
Holiness in want of a prompter, such faithlessness being then in usual
practice for political ends, and the old chronicler expressly tells us that the
conscience of Boniface was very readily stretched for gain to the Church,
under cover of the axiom that the end justified the means. Against these
authorities the vision can scarcely be deemed of historic weight, especially

as such breach of good faith was, probably, in the eyes of Dante, a less
heinous offence than his reconciliation with the Guelphs.[25] Indeed the poet
in the Convito ranks him with those noble spirits, "who, when approaching
the last haven, lowered the sails of their earthly career, and, laying aside
worldly pleasures and wishes, devoted themselves to religion in their old
age."[*26] Of the merit or efficacy of such sacrifices at the dread tribunal, it
belongs not to erring man dogmatically to judge: for our purpose it is more
appropriate to notice the following brief of Boniface to the Franciscan
superintendent of La Marca, as remarkable evidence of the devotional zeal
which actuated the Count in assuming the monastic vows, and which

"When joy of war and pride of chivalry
Languished beneath accumulated years,
Had power to draw him from the world."

"Our beloved son, the noble Count Guido of Montefeltro, has repeatedly
conveyed to us personally, and through credible informants, his wish,
desire, and intention, after communing with his own heart, to end his days
in God's service, under the monastic habit, as a means of effacing his sins
against Him, and the mother Church of Rome; and this with the full assent
of his wife, who is said to be willing to take upon herself the vows of
perpetual chastity. We, therefore, commending in the Lord his devotional
aspirations, which seemed disposed in all prudence to admit the spirit of
counsel, and in order to the more free fulfilment of his vow,—will that his
household be paid out of what movables he possesses, and that he assign to
his wife from his real estate as much beyond the amount of her dowry as
may give her a hundred pounds in Ravenna currency yearly, during her life,
a divorce having been first duly pronounced between them, in the form
customary and becoming when a vow of chastity has been undertaken. And
we further desire that all such personal effects as may remain, after
remunerating his attendants, shall be securely deposited, and lie in the
hands of responsible persons in the meantime, until we shall come to further
resolutions regarding the real and movable property which he now has. And
further, as the advanced age of his consort places her beyond suspicion, it is
our will that she have leave to remain in her present position, if she cannot
be persuaded to a monastic retirement." After conferring on the
Superintendent the authority requisite for carrying these resolutions into
effect, the Pope concludes by desiring that it be left to the Count's unbiassed

decision, whether he will enter one of the military orders, or adopt the more
rigid rule of the friars minor of St. Francis. This letter is dated from Anagni
the 23rd of August, 1296.[27] The option thus given him in no way shook his
intention of conforming to the ascetic rule of "poverty and Francis:" and
although his Countess Costanza did not follow his example by assuming the
monastic vows, she passed the eight remaining years of her worldly
pilgrimage in the not less strict seclusion of Santa Chiara at Urbino, a
convent especially favoured by her posterity, and of such rigid discipline
that the nuns went barefoot and wore no linen, rising habitually at midnight,
and but once a year permitted to approach the grating in order to see their
nearest relatives. Her lord's remaining life was of shorter span, as he died at
Assisi on the 27th of September, 1298, and is said to have been interred in
the church there. That his courage was not unmingled with cunning seems
established rather by some incidents in his life than by the bitter lines of the
Ghibelline bard; that his piety was shadowed by superstition is a conclusion
suggested by the closing scenes of his life, and still more by his most
stirring years having bent to the slavish control of astrological quackery to a
degree exceeding even the darkness of his age. His zeal founded the family
chapel, which may yet be seen in the lower church at Assisi,—its frescoes
cruelly defaced; and the devotion of his family was long after specially
directed to the service of St. Francis and Santa Chiara.[*28]
During the next century, the pedigree of the Montefeltri, and their feats of
arms against rival seigneurs, such as the Brancaleoni, the Malatesti, and the
Ceccardi, are involved in confusion which we need not stay to extricate.
Heroes they were, but in fields which the wide glance of history has
overlooked: they found no Thucydides to depict their gallant deeds, no
Froissart to chronicle their fame. Fighting under Ghibelline colours, their
victories were followed by papal vengeance, affording a pretext for new
risings of their urban subjects, in one of which Count Federigo and his son
were torn to pieces about 1322. But though Guelph was then the ordinary
watchword of freedom, and though all who desired self-government were
wont to rally round the Church, they often found, like the frogs in the fable,
that they had gained a worse master. As a specimen of the papal legates of
his day, we may mention Guglielmo Durante,[*29] a predicant friar, who
presided over the ecclesiastical territories in Romagna, about the beginning
of that century, giving his name to a town in the duchy of Urbino which he

rebuilt, and which long afterwards became Urbania. His tomb is in the
church of the Minerva at Rome, one of those fine monuments where
architecture and sculpture unite to perpetuate the dead, and over which
mosaic throws the magic of rich colouring. The inscription, after
enumerating his legal and liturgical works, thus celebrates the energetic
qualities of this mitred warrior: "Savage as a lion against his foes, he tamed
indomitable communities, he put church rebels to the sword, and reduced
the vanquished to servitude." No wonder that the citizens of Urbino
preferred to such pastors a return under their hereditary lords. Nor was
Umbria the only theatre of Feltrian prowess. Among the republics, Pisa was
as devotedly Ghibelline, as were these counts among the great feudatories.
Intimate political relations were the natural result, and the Pisans were
seldom without one of that race as their seigneur to maintain the common
cause against their Guelphic rivals of Florence and Lucca.
Antonio Count of Montefeltro and Urbino, eighth or ninth in descent
from Antonio first Lord of Monte Copiolo. His family having for some
years been expatriated, and their state a prey to intestine broils, the harassed
citizens recalled him in 1377 as representative of their ancient chiefs; and
from that time we can follow with tolerable certainty the generations and
history of the Montefeltri. The imperial party in Italy was now reduced to a
mere name, fitted rather for a cry of faction than to be the rallying point of
international feud. The authority lost by the emperors in Central Italy had
passed to the pontiffs, and Count Antonio, emancipating himself from the
spell that had bound his race to a falling cause, gave to his posterity an
example of loyalty to his over-lord the Pope. He is mentioned in a chronicle
of 1384 as introducing certain reforms in the administration of justice,
which before publication were submitted for approval by the municipal
council of Urbino, and eight years thereafter he put forth various amended
statutes and constitutions. His good sense was rewarded by peace at home
and acquisitions abroad. Cagli and Gubbio drove out their domestic tyrants
the Ceccardi and the Gabrielli, in order to welcome his sway,[*30] and he
conquered Cantiano from the latter after a nine years' struggle. Benedict IX.
welcomed him as an obedient son of the Church, and established him by
new investitures in these towns, as well as in the former holdings of his
family.[*31] His bitter strife with the Malatesti was with difficulty appeased
by mediation of that Pontiff and of the Venetians. Allied with Florence,

Siena, and Milan,[*32] he gained the fame of a gallant captain, whilst his
exertions to govern his people with humanity and justice established his
reputation as a mild, generous, and benignant prince. His prudence, high
counsel, and lofty spirit are lauded in an old chronicle of Forlì;[*33] and a
sonnet, inspired by religion rather than poetry, and ascribed to his pen, will
be found in the Appendix I.
The death of Count Antonio was announced to the government of Siena by
his son, in terms which, exceeding the formal expression of ceremonious
regret, afford a pleasing specimen of official intercourse in early times. The
original, in rude Latin, is preserved in the Archivio Diplomatico at Siena.

"To the mighty and potent Lords and special Fathers, the
Lords Priors, and Governors of the people and city of
Siena.
"Mighty and potent Lords, special Fathers; I should gladly
communicate news more pleasant both to your
magnificences, whose true and unwavering son I am, and to
myself; but whatever they may be, they ought to be freely
reciprocated where there exists true strength of affection,
and intact purity of friendship, in order that such guileless
amity may rejoice with a friend in prosperity, and may
sustain, support, sympathise with, or even defend him in
misfortune. And being made aware by information from
others, as well as by personal experience, of the sincere
affection and mutual interchange of favours continued
between your progenitors and my own, I have decided, with
tearful words, bitter sighs, and sad wailings, to inform your
magnificences, to whom I faithfully commend myself and
state, how, on the 29th of last April, the potent Lord my
father, of unfading memory, yielded his noble spirit to the
Almighty Creator of all, paying the timely but, alas,
unavoidable debt, and separated from the flesh by force of
fever, after disposing of his worldly affairs, and receiving
the holy eucharist and other sacramental rites of our religion,
with a mind distinct to his last hour. Ah me! wretched and
afflicted, doomed to such distress! Dearest fathers, the loss
of such and so great a parent torments and agitates me; what
and how eminent a son have you and your community lost in
him. It is indeed beyond the power of nature herself to
replace to your magnificences one of greater or even equal
affection, or to supply such a father to me who fain would
imitate him. For he curtailed my cares, relieved my sighs,
appeased my fears, cleared my entanglements. One only
consideration soothes and mitigates my mental affliction,
and the grief that envenoms my heart, that since fate has
bereaved me of such a parent, it may find for me another in
you, magnificent fathers, whom I heartily beseech to assume

a paternal care of me your child, and of my state, and to
counsel me in my affairs as a steady son, who will in no way
abandon these recollections, and my paternal associations.
Prepared for all compliance with your wishes, your
magnificences' son,
"Guido Count of Montefeltro and Urbino.
"Urbino, 9th May, 1404."
Count Antonio died in April, 1404, and by his wife, a daughter of Ugolino
Gonzaga, left,

1. Count Guidantonio, his successor.
2. Anna, who died unmarried in 1434.[*34]
3. Battista.

Upon the last of these sisters we must dwell in some detail, for she was
conspicuous among the ladies of high birth, whose acquirements gave
illustration to her age. By contemporary authors, her talents and
endowments are spoken of in most flattering terms, whilst her character is
celebrated for piety and justice, benignity and clemency. She corresponded
with many of these writers, and employed her pen in theology and poetry.
Among other moral treatises, she is said to have written upon human frailty,
and on the true faith. In such exercises she found a resource amid the large
share of public and domestic calamities which shadowed her lot. Her
marriage was celebrated in 1404, when about twenty-one years of age, with
Galeazzo Malatesta, heir of the seigneury of Pesaro, a spiritless creature
entirely devoid of the martial qualities of his race, and whose incapacity so
disgusted his subjects that, after two years, he was driven out. He
subsequently sold his birthright by a transaction which we shall describe in
our fifth chapter, and, forsaking his wife, consoled himself in old age with
another mate. Battista, with her only child, fled from her rebellious subjects
to Urbino, and at the court of her brother found a ready welcome. When the
Emperor Sigismund arrived there, on returning from his coronation at Rome
in 1433, she was selected to pronounce, in his honour, a Latin harangue,
which is published, but now possesses little interest. Her poetic vein had
been encouraged by her father-in-law, who, anticipating the literary tastes

which prevailed among the Italian princes later in this century, gained the
surname of Malatesta degli Sonetti, from his success in that class of
compositions. Several of the Italian sonnets and canzoni which passed
between them are preserved in manuscript, as well as some of her letters in
Latin.[35] Specimens of both are printed in the Appendix No. I., including a
letter of Battista written for an interesting purpose. Cleofe, her husband's
youngest sister, had married Teodoro, eldest son of an emperor of
Constantinople, and despot of the Morea, but this splendid alliance was
embittered by persecutions on account of her faith, which at length induced
her thus to state the case to Martin V. The result of this appeal does not
appear, but the subject of it is believed to have outlived his Holiness about
two years.[36]
The ill-starred and virtually widowed lady of Pesaro eventually took the
veil, by the name of Sister Gerolima, in the Franciscan convent of Santa
Lucia at Foligno, where she died in 1450. Another monastery of the
rigorous order of Sta. Chiara, dedicated by her at Pesaro to the Corpus
Domini, had in 1443 received her daughter Elisabetta, whose lot was
scarcely less unfortunate. Her husband, Pietro Gentile Lord of Camerino,
fell a victim in 1433 to fraternal jealousy, leaving an only child Costanza,
whom we shall subsequently notice as first wife of Alessandro Sforza, the
supplanter of her grandfather in the seigneury of Pesaro, and as mother of
Battista Countess of Urbino.

CHAPTER III
Guidantonio Count of Urbino—The Ubaldini—Oddantonio Count of
Urbino—Is made Duke—His dissolute habits and speedy assassination.

C
OUNT GUIDANTONIO found himself, on his succession,
hampered by debts incurred in purchasing another ample investiture
in vicariate from Boniface IX., which cost him 12,000 golden
florins. But prudence quickly retrieved these embarrassments, and
not only enabled him to add materially to his territories and influence, but
to raise his house to unprecedented distinction. In 1408, the mountain
republic of Assisi sought protection from his sway; and this was approved
by Gregory XII., to whom he adhered in opposition to the antipope
Benedict XIII.[*37] The disgraceful schisms which at this time agitated
Europe, and convulsed the Church, had their influence upon the Count of
Urbino, who refused to desert Gregory when he and his rival Benedict were
simultaneously deposed by the general council of Pisa, as a means of
restoring union and peace to Christendom. Ladislaus of Naples, adopting
the same policy, appointed the Count his grand constable, and leader of the
war he was carrying on against John XXII., the de facto pope, by whom he
was consequently excommunicated. Guidantonio, however, made his peace
with the Church in 1413, and was created its gonfaloniere, and vice-general
of Romagna; thereafter he was for some time occupied against Braccio di
Montone, who carried fire and sword into his territories, on his failing to
make good part of the ransom of Carlo Malatesta, for which he had become
security.[*38] This Braccio was a fair specimen of Italian captains of
adventure. His ancestors were among the magnates of Perugia, which,
under the guidance of an oligarchy, had stretched its sway over much of
Umbria, extending almost from sea to sea. "But man's estate being ever
unstable, when its citizens, indolent by inclination, had thus greatly
augmented their dominion and wealth, their pride swelled with their means.
They who had vanquished their neighbours, waxing savage in their very
vitals, set to conquer each other; hence there arose fierce discords and cruel
feuds. Verily the city of Perugia was in those days most liable to changes,

for it was alternately governed by the nobles, or seized by the mob; in either
case supremacy having been obtained by arms and violence, rather than by
equity and moderation, the victors cruelly massacred or exiled their
opponents." This quaint description, borrowed from Campano, the
biographer of Braccio, was then applicable to almost every city and
township of the Peninsula. It was his hero's fate to be expatriated in early
life by some such convulsion, and nothing was left him but his good sword,
to cut his way therewith as a condottiere, until he established a despotic
authority in his birthplace, and won a high place in the martial annals of
Italy. Even after his death at the Lake of Celano, his name was during half a
century cherished by his followers as the prestige of victory, and we shall
often find the Braccian bands, under Nicolò Piccinino, opposed to those of
his constant rivals the Sforza.

THE BATTLE OF S. EGIDIO
After the picture by Paolo Uccello in the National Gallery.
Portraits of Carlo Malatesta and his nephew Galeotto “il
Beato”

Cardinal Ottone Colonna, formerly bishop of Urbino, having been raised to
the papacy in 1417, by the title of Martin V., Guidantonio lost no time in
rendering him homage by an envoy, whom he next year followed in person,

meeting the Pontiff at Mantua. His well-timed adhesion was repaid by a
life-grant of the dukedom of Spoleto, after which he returned to defend his
frontiers from his turbulent neighbour of Montone. On his arrival in Italy in
1419, Martin found his states greatly disorganised, and the temporal sway
of the papacy deeply infringed by many seigneurs and communities, who
had made themselves independent during the secession to Avignon, and in
the prolonged schisms which had succeeded the return of Urban VI. to
Rome. None of these had so much reason to dread the reckoning likely to
follow the re-establishment of Christ's vicars in their ancient capital as the
tyrant of Perugia, who was now at the height of his power. Unable to
frustrate the impediments which Braccio threw in the way of his progress
southward, the Pontiff paused at Florence, which he entered on the 26th of
February; but even there he found a populace in the interest of his rebellious
feudatory, and ever ready to outrage him with such taunts as "Martin Pope,
not worth a plack."[39] Aware of the hazard of delay, and of the importance
of gaining over a spirit so powerful for good or evil, Martin invited
Montone to an interview, and found means to conciliate him by a
compromise, recognising him as vicar of Perugia, Assisi, Todi, and Jesi, on
his surrendering Orvieto, Terni, Narni, and Orte.[*40] He at the same time
engaged his military services to reduce Bologna, then standing out for the
deposed Pope John XXIII., who, on the fall of that his last stronghold,
repaired to Florence to make submission to the reigning Pontiff, and died
there in the end of that year.[*41] Martin's difficulties being thus overcome,
he was enabled during the autumn to proceed in peace to Rome, and there
to re-establish the metropolis of Christendom.
The Pope had availed himself of Braccio's visit to Florence to call thither
the Count of Urbino, in order to effect a reconciliation between these rivals.
Guidantonio, on this occasion, had from the magistracy of that city, as well
as from his own over-lord, a highly honourable welcome, and in March,
1420, received, at the hands of his Holiness, the Golden Rose, a
compliment usually conferred upon royalty.[*42] Three years later, he found
himself widowed by the death of Rengarda, daughter of Galeotto Malatesta,
Lord of Rimini, whom he had married in 1397, and who left him childless.
After an interval, he strengthened his intimate relations with the Pontiff, by
marrying Caterina, daughter of his brother Lorenzo Colonna, an alliance
which secured him a series of further favours, in addition to a dowry of

5200 florins of gold. The nuptials were celebrated at Rome with great
rejoicings, in the spring of 1424.[*43]
The house of Urbino had hereditary feuds of long standing with the
Brancaleoni, a race of Guelphic principles, whose fiefs lay along the
Apennines from Gubbio to Montefeltro, including all Massa Trabaria and
the upper valley of the Metauro. Their recurring contests ended in a victory,
or were compromised by a marriage, from which the former were usually
the gainers. Upon pretences which it is needless amid conflicting statements
to investigate, and assured of the Pontiff's support, Guidantonio had seized
upon Castle Durante and other fortresses in 1424, and on the death of
Bartolomeo Brancaleoni, leaving only a daughter,[*44] he arranged her
marriage with his natural son Federico, whose fortunes we shall hereafter
have to follow. The large territory thus absolutely or virtually placed under
the Count continued with his posterity so long as the independence of
Urbino was preserved.
To the impression which Guidantonio had made on his visit to Florence
some ten years before he probably owed the baton of captain-general, sent
him in the autumn of 1430 by that republic in their campaign against Lucca.
But there he reaped no laurels. In an engagement fought in the face of his
protestations, he suffered from Nicolò Piccinino a total discomfiture, and,
throwing up the command in disgust, he returned home early next year.
About the same time his prosperity received a further check in the demise
of his steady friend the Pontiff, who lived to see the schism that had
perplexed the Church during half a century finally healed by the death of all
his competitors for the chair of St. Peter. The triple tiara passed to the brows
of Eugene IV., who visited Martin's undue partiality for his own family the
Colonna, by escheats which they flew to arms to avenge. The Lord of
Urbino, naturally leaning to the party of his wife's relations, lost the
Pontiff's favour; but he gained a well-wisher in the Emperor Sigismund,
who, while returning to Germany from his coronation at Rome, was
magnificently entertained at that court, and conferred the honour of
knighthood upon his host and the young Count Oddantonio.
The death of Countess Caterina, on the 9th of October, 1438, seems to have
in a great degree broken the fine spirit of her husband, who immediately
retired to pass ten days in devotional exercises at Loretto, and

thenceforward devolved all his military cares upon his natural son Federigo.
His few remaining years were given to pious works, to which the cathedral
of Urbino and the church of San Donato, both founded in 1439, bear
witness; and he is said to have then habitually worn, under his ordinary
dress, the habit of St. Francis, in which he was interred. His death took
place on the 20th of February, 1442,[*45] and he was buried in San Donato,
where his cowled effigy is still seen on the pavement, his spurs of
knighthood hanging from his sheathed sword-hilt, with a barbarous
inscription, which will be found in the Appendix to our third volume.
On the demise of this prince, who has been sometimes confused with Count
Guido the elder, "the city of Urbino was," in the simple words of an old
chronicle, "left widowed and desolate." Of his character and merits,
whatever has reached us is favourable. The doggerel verses of his epitaph
celebrate his clemency and justice; his religion was manifested by the tenor
of his latter years, the general respect of his contemporaries honoured him
through life, and he left behind him an extended frontier and a condensed
state. His surviving children were—

1. Oddantonio, his successor, born in 1426.
2. Bianca, married to Guidantonio or Guidaccio Manfredi, Lord of
Faenza and Imola, who had been brought up at her father's court.
3. Violante, who was born in 1430, and at twelve years of age,
married Domenico Malatesta Novello, Lord of Cesena. She was
remarkable alike for talent and beauty; and her husband, who died
childless in 1465, left a fine monument of his literary tastes, in the
public library which remains in that city.
4. Agnesina, born in 1431, who in 1445 married Alessandro Gonzaga,
Lord of Castiglione, a younger son of the first Marquis of Mantua.
5. Brigida Sueva.[46]

Count Guidantonio also left two natural children:

1. Federigo, afterwards Duke of Urbino;

2. Anna, Aura, or Laura, married in 1420 to Bernardino Ubaldino
della Carda, although by some authorities his wife is incorrectly called
sister of Count Guidantonio.[47]

Count Oddantonio from infancy gave promise of a character combining the
virtues of his immediate predecessors with talents rare in any rank. But
prematurely
"Lord of himself, that heritage of woe,"
the good seed was choked by tares springing from the too fertile soil; and a
prince on whom nature and fortune, imperial and papal favour, concentrated
their bounties, perished miserably and disgracefully ere he had attained to
manhood. His birth occurred in 1424 or 1426,[*48] his youth being
distinguished by remarkable progress in liberal studies, and by rapidly
mastering those accomplishments befitting the spurs of knighthood, with
which he had been decorated in childhood by the Emperor Sigismund. Soon
after his father's death, he repaired to Siena, to obtain from Eugene IV. a
confirmation of his hereditary states, and to supplicate a renewed investiture
of the dukedom of Spoleto. But the pontifical jurisdiction over the long-
abandoned Italian provinces was as yet imperfectly consolidated, and
Braccio di Montone had but recently shown to what peril it might be
exposed by the restlessness of an overgrown feudatory. Profiting by this
experience, his Holiness evaded compliance with Oddantonio's second
request, but softened the refusal by conferring upon him the title of Duke,
along with his patrimonial territories.
We have from the pen of Pius II. a narrative of this ceremonial, which took
place on the 26th of April, 1443. "He who was to be created duke by the
Pope repaired to his residence, suitably dressed, and arrayed in a mantle of
gold, open on the right side from the shoulder to the ground. Thence he
followed the Pontiff, holding the lower extremity of his cope, as he
descended to the [cathedral] church to hear mass, and when his Holiness
took his seat, he placed himself on the first step at his feet. Next he was
made a knight of St. Peter, by girding him with a sword (which after three
lunges in the air he resheathed) and by receiving three strokes with it on the
shoulders, whilst his spurs were buckled on. The Duke-elect then kneeling,
swore and promised reverence and obedience in time to come to the holy

Church and to the Pope, serving him in all its behests, and defending his
jurisdiction, rights, and territories, and bound himself to pay yearly on St.
Peter's day, for his new dignity, a white hackney suitably accoutred. The
Pontiff then placed the ducal cap on his head, and the sceptre in his hand,
and the new Duke, having therewith kissed his Holiness's foot, was led by
the two youngest cardinal-deacons to his place between them. Finally,
having taken off his cap, he returned to the Pope's feet, and presented him
with an offering of gold coin at his discretion, and, on conclusion of the
mass, departed between the two cardinals, decorated with the ducal dignity:
this was the ceremony performed by Eugene IV. for Oddantonio."
This Duke's brief life is shrouded in mystery; for contemporary authorities
do not enable us to pronounce with certainty on the enormous vices
wherewith tradition and innuendo have vaguely blackened his memory,
whilst the narratives of Galli and Baldi, composed for his successors in a
spirit of adulation rather than of truth, clearly overplead his defence. The
testimony of Pius II. is so direct as to one atrocity, barbarous almost beyond
belief, that it would be equally difficult to reject it, or crediting the tale, to
limit the probable enormities of a wretch so inhuman. The accusations
against him are that, intoxicated by good fortune, he cast off his early
discipline, forgot the lessons of philosophy, and placing himself
unreservedly in the guidance of dissolute favourites, dismayed his subjects
by outrages the most licentious, and by cruelties the most revolting. The
instance mentioned by Pius II. is that he had one of his pages, who had
neglected to provide lights at the proper hour, enveloped in sear-cloth
coated with combustibles, and then setting fire to his head, left him to the
horrors of a lingering agony.
The account transmitted to us by his apologists mingles pity with our
blame. They say that, desirous of suitably regulating his government, he
listened to the silver-toned suggestions of his crafty and covetous
neighbour, the Lord of Rimini, by whose advice he employed, as
confidential ministers, Manfredi Pio da Carpi, and Tomaso Agnello da
Rimini, men selected by Sigismondo as fitting instruments for his ruin.
That, acting upon the instructions of their principal, these agents by precept
and example debased the mind and corrupted the morals of the young
prince, with the view of rendering his person and rule odious, and of
accelerating a popular revolution, which might peril his life, or, at least,

place his territories within the grasp of Malatesta. That in prosecution of
this diabolical plot, they promoted loathsome orgies and shameless
debaucheries, until the leading citizens, indignant at the dishonour which
daily violated their domestic circles, rose at the instigation of Serafius, a
physician whose handsome wife had been seduced by Manfredi. In the riot
which followed, the two favourites and their master met a tragical end, and
their bodies were exposed to nameless atrocities; but whether the popular
vengeance was equally merited by, and inflicted upon the three, or whether
the Duke was accidentally slain without being involved in these disgraceful
malpractices, is a point likely to remain at issue. It would seem probable,
however, from this passage of an old chronicle transcribed in the Oliveriana
Library, that political discontent had a part in the rising: "On the 22nd of
July, 1444, at lauds [three o'clock a.m.], Oddantonio was slain in his own
hall, and along with him his familiar servants Manfredo de' Pii and Tomaso
da Rimini; and forthwith the people of Urbino in one voice called for
Signor Federigo, who at once took possession of the state. On the 1st of
August, public proclamation was made of the abolition of imposts and of
the assize of salt, and all penalties were remitted."[*49] The same writer
speaks vaguely of previous intestine broils, slaughters, and alarms, with
other symptoms of feeble government, all indicating considerable
disorganisation in the duchy, of which the Malatesta and Bartolomeo
Colleone availed themselves to harass its frontiers.[50]

Alinari
LEONELLO D’ESTE
After the picture by Pisanello in the
Morelli Gallery, Bergamo

There were tinges of peculiar sadness in the gloomy fate which thus
overtook this unhappy youth. In the preceding summer he had been
betrothed to Isotta, daughter of Nicolò Marquis of Ferrara, and but three
months before his death, had attended the nuptials of her brother Leonello.
On that occasion he spent fifteen days in joyous excitement, preluding, as
he hoped, similar festivities in his own honour. After the piazza of Ferrara
had glittered with a gallant show of chivalrous exercises, and had witnessed
the semi-religious pageant of St. George's triumph over the dragon, it was,

as if by magic, converted into a forest-scene, studded with goodly oaks
amid a thick jungle of underwood, the haunt of numerous wild animals.
Upon these the sportsmen wrought their pleasure, until the place was
strewed with bodies of bullocks, steers, wild boars, and goats. As a test of
the attendant good cheer, we have a return of provender consumed,
amounting to 2000 oxen, 40,000 pairs of fowls, pheasants and pigeons
without number, 20,000 measures of wine, and 2000 moggie of grain,
besides 15,000 pounds of sweetmeats, and 12,000 of wax candles.[51] On
the conclusion of festivities congenial to his tastes, but ill-suited to his
impending fate, the young Duke lingered in dalliance with his bride,
returning home only the eve of the fatal night which summoned him
"From that unrest which men miscal delight."
It remains doubtful whether his own marriage was ever completed, as
supposed by Litta, but Isotta's cup was fully charged with bitters. During
the festive celebration of her after nuptials with one of the Frangipani, the
partner and lover of her maid of honour fell dead in the dance, an evil omen
too fully realised in domestic dissensions which soon sent her back to her
brother's court.
The Duke was buried in the church of S. Francesco, but his remains are said
to have been subsequently removed to the chapter-house of that convent. In
a neglected cloister leading from the church, there may still be seen two
monuments bearing the Montefeltro arms, one of which, canopied by light
columns of spiral Gothic, has a stork, holding in its mouth a scroll.[*52] Here
probably was the ill-fated Oddantonio's tomb; the nameless dead to whom
the other was dedicated may have been his grandfather, Count Antonio, or
the Countess Rengarda, both of whom were interred in these precincts,
where their graves were opened and identified in 1634.
There is little inducement to dwell on the few notices remaining of one
whose character and fate merit no sympathy. Yet among a rich store of
letters from the Montefeltrian princes to the government of Siena, we have
selected two written by Oddantonio in Italian; one is characteristic, the
other calculated to throw a more favourable light upon his disposition.
"To our very noble and well beloved, the Podestà, Priors,
and Vice-counts of Siena.

"Mighty and potent Lords, dearest Fathers; After
commendations: Having heard that, in your magnificent city,
stakes will shortly be run for, I should have much pleasure in
sending to it one of my racers;[*53] but understanding that
there are reprisals between your magnificent community and
the illustrious lord, my lord father, I beg you, for my
protection and security, to let me have by the bearer, whom I
send on purpose, a safe conduct in such ample form as your
magnificences may think fit, on whose singular favour I rely,
ever recommending myself to your lordships. From Urbino,
the 10th of November, 1439. Your magnificences' son,
"Oddantonio, Count of Montefeltro,
Urbino, and Casteldurante."

"Our noble and beloved;
"Though we should wish to write you things pleasant and
consolatory, we must lay before you what our Lord God has
ordered; and although you ought to participate in all our
circumstances, whether prosperous or adverse, yet it is with
grief and much bitterness of heart that we inform you how it
has been the will of our Lord God to call to himself the soul
of our lord and father, who passed from this miserable life
on the 20th instant, between nine and ten at night [i.e. about
half-past three a.m. of the 21st], before Thursday morning.
And his death occurred in the course of nature, from the
violence of fever, the proper sacraments of the Church
having first been received as became a faithful Christian,
with the utmost humility, contrition, and devotion, and
having disposed in due form of his own affairs, and those of
his children and state, and all his other concerns. I feel
assured that you will be as much vexed and grieved at this
event in mind and heart as myself; and this with reason, for
the misfortune and severe loss is yours as much as mine, and
keeping in view his worth, excellence, and good conduct,

and the affection he bore you, I may say it specially touches
you. In whose steps we shall do our best to tread, by a
conduct at once satisfactory to you, and beneficial to our
state, as to this city and people, and the others that we have
to govern, that so you may be satisfied with our future
conduct, and constrain yourselves to conform to the will of
our Lord God, and be comforted. And we pray you to do
thus, and to regard the welfare of this city and of our state as
recommended to you, to which effect we firmly rely upon
you. And by help of God's grace and the good advices of our
said lord and father, with the counsel and aid of worthy
friends, and our own right intentions, matters will go on well
and to your satisfaction. If we have been [tardy] in advising
you of these things, do not be astonished, as this was done
advisedly and for good purpose.
"Oddantonio, Count of Montefeltro,
Urbino, and Durante.
"Urbino, the 24th February, 1443."
It does not distinctly appear whether the dignity of Duke was merely
personal, or limited to the heirs male of Oddantonio's body. At all events it
must have lapsed on his death, as it was not only dropped by his successor
in the state, but Count Federigo, even after his new creation, called himself
"first" Duke; in this he was followed by his descendants down to Francesco
Maria II., the last of the race, who alone designated himself sixth Duke,
counting from Oddantonio.[*54]

BOOK SECOND
OF FEDERIGO DI MONTEFELTRO, COUNT AND
SECOND DUKE OF URBINO

CHAPTER IV
The birth of Count Federigo—Condition of Italy—His marriage and only
military service—The Malatesta, his inveterate foes—He takes S. Leo—
Is invested with Mercatello.

W
ITH Federigo, successor of Duke Oddantonio, commences the
proper subject of these volumes, but we are met by a
preliminary difficulty as to his birth and parentage, which has
baffled many of his biographers. It would be useless, as well as
tedious, to enumerate and examine the host of conflicting and often
inconsistent authorities on this vexed question.[55] The amount of
blundering and contradiction to which it has given rise is scarcely
conceivable, considering that most of our authorities either frequented the
court of Urbino during his own and his son's time, or had access to
contemporary documents. Seven separate theories have found supporters:—
1. That Federigo was son of Count Guidantonio, born in wedlock; 2. That
he was his natural, but legitimated son; 3. That he was his natural son,
passed off as the child of his first wife Rengarda, after a pretended
pregnancy; 4. That he was son of Bernardino della Carda and his wife
Anna, sister of Count Guidantonio, adopted by the latter whilst he had no
son; 5. That he was their son, passed off as the child of Countess Rengarda;
6. That he was their son, passed off as a natural child of Guidantonio; 7.
That being their son, and Anna or Aura being daughter of Guidantonio, he
was adopted or passed off as son of the latter, though, in fact, his grandson.
[56] It would follow that he might have been either nephew, brother-in-law,
or son of Bernardino. All doubt on this subject is set at rest by a formal
legitimation from Martin V., of 22nd December, 1424, which I discovered
in the Archivio Diplomatico at Florence, in favour of Federigo, as son of
Guidantonio by a maiden of Urbino. This document is alluded to by Galli,
Reposati, and others; but its existence has been often denied,
notwithstanding the almost equally valid evidence of that Count's testament
quoted by Riposati, wherein, failing his lawful sons, he substitutes his
"legitimate son" Federigo as his universal heir.

It is very remarkable that the filiation of Federigo to the Ubaldini is adopted
by a majority of those writers who lived under him and his son, giving
colour to a conjecture that it may have been encouraged at their court as
masking the flaw in their pedigree. This, however, is but an unsatisfactory
explanation. His character and brilliant distinctions could well dispense
with the honours of birth; and in this century, bastardy, so far from inferring
a blot on the princely escutcheons of Italy, or presenting a bar to
sovereignty, seemed, as in the dynasties of Este and Scala, as well as in the
Malatesta, already referred to, to constitute a preference. But in order to
explain his special affection for the Ubaldini, it has been supposed that his
mother was of that stock, and that he was at first brought up by them, in
deference to the jealousy of Countess Rengarda. This motive soon ceased
by her death, when the infant was received and cherished in his father's
palace.

Federigo di Montefeltro is generally said to have been born on the 7th of
June, 1422, and the earliest incident of his childhood was his premature
betrothal.[*57] The mountain-land from whence spring the Metauro and the
Foglia, including some of the loftiest Apennine summits, was then called
Massa Trabaria, and had been long held in fief by the Brancaleoni.
Mercatello was the petty metropolis of some twenty townlets which obeyed
Bartolomeo, the last male of that race. Art has given to his merits a record
withheld by history, and the few travellers who visit the church of S.
Francesco in that town, a very shrine of local æsthetics, will pause to
admire his Gothic tomb, beautiful even through its disguise of recent
whitewash, and to read this touching epitaph:—"Joanna Aledusia during her
life erected this monument of affection to Bartolomeo Brancaleone, prince
of this place, her most faithful husband, and to herself." This lady was born
an Alidosio of Imola, and being left with an only daughter, Martin V., to
whom the fief had lapsed, conferred its interim administration upon Count
Guidantonio of Urbino, as rector, with promise of a new investiture to his
son Federigo, on condition of his marriage with the orphaned Gentile. They
were accordingly affianced ere the boy-bridegroom had completed his

eighth year, and the spouses were brought up together under the fond and
judicious tutelage of the Lady Joanna.

The return of the popes to Rome was the beginning of a new act in the great
drama of Italian mediæval history. Deserting their proper capital, they had
left it for above a century a prey to faction, strife, and rapine, which there
was no authority to control, nor any holier influence to modify. The
example of such disorganisation spread through the Peninsula, and
aggravated dissension in all its cities. In absence of the papal court, the
gloom of a dark age again brooded over the ecclesiastical states, for the few
sparks of learning had been carried by emigrant churchmen to Provence.
But, with its restoration, Rome became once more the metropolis of
Christendom, and Italy began to feel that kindling glow, which, radiating
from its centre, disseminated the cheering light and healthful flush of
knowledge and civilisation over the globe. In one respect, however, and that
a material one, was the position of the papacy altered. The protracted
scandal of recent repeated schisms had shaken men's reliance on its
infallibility; the fierce bickerings between popes and anti-popes, hurling
anathemas and bandying abuse, had raised in the spectators a doubt if their
cause could be more sacred than their weapons. The days when an emperor
would hold the stirrup for a successor of St. Peter were passed away. Nor
were affairs altogether satisfactory as regarded the domestic security of the
latter. The dread of again losing their sovereign court formed a convenient
check upon the factious citizens of Rome; but the barons of the Campagna
were restless neighbours and turbulent vassals, and though the Gaetani and
Frangipani were no longer formidable, the Savelli, the Orsini, and the
Colonna by turns carried fire and sword into each other's holdings, or
scoured the streets of Rome itself in their forays. To assert an effectual
jurisdiction over the province immediately surrounding their capital, and to
maintain their waning influence abroad, became the two great objects of
successive pontiffs during the fifteenth century: one of these was perhaps a
painful necessity, the other originated a policy ruinous to Italy; both
occasioned frequent appeals to carnal weapons, pregnant with mischief to
the Holy See.

Among many anomalies in the papacy, was the inverse ratio of its foreign
influence and its domestic strength. Even whilst Rome and its vicinity had
been most lawless, whilst the authority of popes in preceding centuries had
been most fettered by faction, or most exposed to seditious outrage, their
spiritual sway attained its height, and was acknowledged over Christendom
without question. The reason is obvious. The religious spirit of the age
bowed to ecclesiastical domination, while the factious temperament of the
Romans fretted under all restraints of order. After their long exemption
from the personal control of the popes, it became more than ever requisite
to curb these feverish citizens, and to break down their robber noblesse: we
shall hereafter see by what unscrupulous means, and at how great a sacrifice
of character, this was finally effected by Alexander VI. But the popedom,
whose unity had been rudely shaken by schism and absence, began, after its
return to Rome, to suffer manifest inroads from the extension of their
political individualities by the chief states of Europe. In order to maintain
itself against this new tendency, it had recourse to a like policy; it sought by
temporal aggrandisement to compensate the decay of spiritual authority.
During its antecedent struggles with the empire, the cause of the Church
had been that of freedom, its rallying cry the watchword of liberty. In those
days its successes were hailed as a boon by the communes of Italy. Even the
feudatories, whose jurisdiction had grown up under shelter of the imperial
name, were glad to confirm their title by enrolling themselves as vassals of
the Holy See. But when the successors of St. Peter began to develop ulterior
aims,—when they descended into the arena of mere political ambition, and
sought to aggrandise their territorial dominion by intrigue and arms,—a
marked reaction took place. The princes and republics of the Peninsula
stood on their defence against a new power of discord, the most fickle in its
policy, the most unscrupulous in its expedients, that they had yet been
called to resist. The ultra-montane nations pressed on to cope with or to
conquer those degenerate Vicars of Christ, who, abandoning their high
calling as shepherds and pacificators of Christendom, became its
perturbators.
The rapid sketch which we have given in our first chapter of the seigneuries
and communities of Central Italy may suffice to exhibit the general
condition of Umbria, the March of Ancona, and Romagna as far as the Po.
In Tuscany, democratic institutions had taken deeper root, among a

population addicted rather to arts than to arms, and preferring wealth earned
by industry and commercial enterprise to the precarious glory and profits of
the sword. Their peaceful habits permitted capital to accumulate; its
increase gave them a stake in its security; leisure and consequent
intelligence enabled them to mature ideas of liberty beyond those of
neighbouring states. It was in Florence especially that a more perfect
system of municipal institutions established communal freedom upon a
firmer basis, which, amid the ceaseless convulsions of domestic factions,
and even through the long atrophy of later Medicean domination, has
preserved for that city a political and intellectual pre-eminence, finely
acknowledged by old Sanzi in his exclamation,

"For to curtail fair Florence of her freedom,
Were to pluck forth an eye from Italy,
And cause her orb to wane."

In the adjacent commonwealths of Pisa, Lucca, and Siena, similar results
sprang from somewhat analogous causes, although they were from time to
time, in the words of Dante,

"O'erthronged
With tyrants, and a great Marcellus made
Of any petty factious villager,"

until, by degrees encroached on by their more powerful neighbour, they
were finally absorbed in the state which owned the Arno's queen as its
capital.[*58]
Lombardy was no longer the emporium whence commercial wealth
circulated over Europe, but her cities, surrounded by plains of unequalled
fertility, gave no signs of decay, her universities were crowded by
transalpine students. She had fully realised the stinging reproaches of
Alighieri,—

"Thy living ones
In thee abide not without war, and one
Malicious gnaws another, ay, of those
Whom the same wall and the same moat contain;"

but her Ezzelino and Can della Scala were no more, and many of her petty
principalities had been merged in the wide-spreading duchy of Milan, or the
mainland conquests of Venice. The Lion of St. Mark was in the ascendant
during the fifteenth century, and, though we have no occasion to follow the
fleets of Venice as they spread terror among the Turks, we shall in due time
find her terra-firma policy complicating the relations and hampering the
diplomacy of Italy. Naples, long exposed to the calamities of a disputed
succession, which we shall hereafter explain, endured the feeble sway of the
notorious Joanna II., by whose death in February, 1435, the crown passed to
Alfonso V.,—notwithstanding her death-bed recognition of the claims of the
first Angevine dynasty, then represented by the good King René of
Provence,—and the dynasty of Aragon was continued by his illegitimate
descendants until the close of this century.
Having thus endeavoured in a few pages to exhibit the condition of those
Italian states with which our narrative will have to do during the life of
Federigo, we must resume its interrupted thread. Martin V. was succeeded
in 1431 by Eugene IV., a noble of Venice, who, eager to undo the favours
bestowed by Martin on his own relations, sought a quarrel with the Colonna
and their adherents, including the Count of Urbino. This misunderstanding
was patched up by mediation of the Venetian signory, upon an interchange
of hostages, among whom was included Federigo. It thus became necessary
for him to repair to Venice, where he was received in the college or council,
and acquitted himself so well that the Doge, Francesco Foscari, foretold his
rise to great eminence in after life. The favourable opinion thus formed was
daily confirmed by his engaging manners, and he conciliated the noble
youths, who admitted him into their fashionable and very select club or
fraternity of the calze, or hose, so called from their uniform.[59] The plague
having appeared, he was permitted by the Doge, after a residence of fifteen
months, to retire to the court of Mantua, then presided over by the Marquis
Gian Francesco Gonzaga, whose marriage with a Malatesta connected him
with both the wives of our Count Guidantonio. His welcome there was
cordial and distinguished, and during two years he enjoyed advantages
which beneficially influenced his after life. In the Marquis's children he
found fellow-pupils as well as playmates, and, under their father's eye, was
taught the theory of war and the practice of military exercises, until he
became one of the most skilful swordsmen and equestrians of his day.

But it was to the tuition of Vittorino de' Rambaldoni da Feltre[*60] that we
may ascribe his progress in those tastes and accomplishments, for which in
his person and that of his son, Urbino became eminent. This Vittorino was
excelled in learning by few of his contemporaries, and none of them
equalled his reputation as an instructor of youth. He was born at Feltre in
1378, and sent to the university of Padua. After completing, under Giovanni
da Ravenna, the training in grammar, dialectics, and philosophy which then
constituted the basis of a liberal education, he learned Greek from the
famous Guarino of Verona. His powerful mind being attracted to
mathematics, and finding his means unable to command the instructions of
Pelacane of Parma, he proffered the most menial services about his person,
in hopes of picking up some crumbs of knowledge in his service. But the
mercenary professor was not to be melted without gold, and the poor
student was left to struggle unaided with the difficulties of exact science,
until he thoroughly mastered its truths. It was in 1425 that the Marquis of
Mantua induced him to move, with his already celebrated school, to that
capital, for the purpose of teaching his children. The lessons of Vittorino
were well bestowed on the young princes of Gonzaga, but especially on
their sister Cecilia, whose name is not least remarkable among those
prodigies of female learning produced in the Italian courts of that age.
When but ten years old she wrote Greek with singular purity, and her life of
celibacy was devoted to literature.
The peculiarity of Vittorino's system was its extending the field of his
labours beyond the mere scholastic tuition of his time. Without neglecting
the severer studies, he varied them by light accomplishments, and
relaxations of person and mind which proved alike healthful to both, such
as music and drawing, horsemanship, fencing, and all manly exercises. Its
success was testified by an influx of pupils from transalpine and oriental
lands, as well as from every state in Italy. These for the most part resided in
his house, under the immediate influence of his training and example,
which were not less admirably calculated for inculcating high moral
excellence, than for the development and direction of genius. A man of
more simple tastes, winning manners, and pure life was rarely found, and,
by a happy blending of rigid discipline with mild temper, his influence was
beneficially extended over even the least ductile of his flock. At his board,
the rich acquired habits of frugality, the poor were welcomed with generous

consideration. Careless of worldly gain, his earnings were freely spent in
providing for their wants, and at his death in 1447, he left not enough for
his funeral. No work remains from his pen, but he has given ample proof of
his influence on the age, in the eminent names that issued from his
academy, to illustrate Italian letters, either as sovereigns or savants. A
beautiful and rare medal of him by Pisanello presents a fine allegory: the
pelican baring its bosom to feed its little ones happily suggests the
unwearying self-sacrifices of a conscientious instructor, whilst the legend
designates him as father of all human studies. Sanzi's tribute to his character
is at once happy and just:—

"Brilliant his powers of thought, unmatched his zeal,
For science in her varied walks: his life
And manners holy; yet on gentle crafts
And joyous themes right heartily intent."

NICCOLÒ PICCININO

From a bronze medal by Pisanello

VITTORINO DA FELTRE
From a medal by Pisanello in the British Museum

In the autumn of 1432, the Emperor Sigismund, while returning from his
coronation at Rome, was entertained by Count Guidantonio with
magnificent hospitalities at Gubbio[*61] and Urbino, and bestowed
knighthood both on the Count and his son Oddantonio.[*62] On reaching
Mantua, he conferred the like honour on the Gonzaga princes, and extended
it to their guest the young Federigo, who was recalled home whenever his
father had been restored to a good intelligence with the Pontiff. His
marriage was celebrated on the 2nd of December, 1437, after he had
completed his fifteenth year, and he at once entered upon the government of
his wife's paternal fief.

In an age when society consisted of those who fought, those who wrought,
and those who prayed, the young Count of Mercatello belonged to the first
of these classes, and the duty now devolved upon him of carrying into
practice those lessons of warfare which had varied the routine of his more
abstruse studies. Under the military system which we have already
explained, he had to choose what free captain he would serve with, until
experience should qualify him to raise an independent banner. The
condottieri then of greatest name were Nicolò Piccinino and Francesco
Sforza, names which will soon be familiar to our pages. The first of these
was of birth so humble as to own no other surname than that conferred on
him in ridicule of his tiny stature, and appears to have been equally destitute
of those varied talents and enlarged views which enabled several of his
contemporaries to consolidate and transmit the power gained by their
swords. But though unworthy of historic fame,[*63] his dwarfish body
contained a daring and indomitable spirit, which, after considerable service
under Braccio di Montone, the first general of his age, was rewarded with
the hand of his niece; and, notwithstanding the blame of occasioning his
defeat and death at the Lake of Celano in 1424, Nicolò kept together his
veterans, obtaining, as leader of that gallant band, a reputation of which his
own qualities were unworthy. Yet he was unable to cope with Francesco
Sforza, whose first service had been under Joanna II. of Naples, but who
after having, in 1441, won from Filippo Maria Visconti, rather by fear than
favour, the hand of his natural daughter Bianca Maria,[*64] eventually
established himself as his successor in the duchy of Milan.
The Council of Basle, opened in July, 1431, to concert measures for
extirpation of the Bohemian heresy, had occupied itself in reforming alleged
abuses in the Church and the papal prerogatives. A collision with Eugene
IV. was the natural result, when he fled to Florence, leaving his state a prey
to Sforza, Piccinino, the Colonna, and other military adventurers. As the
best means of bridling these bandits, he bribed the first of them to turn his
arms against the others, by offering him the vicariate of La Marca,

"That land
Which lies between Romagna, and the realm
Of Charles."[65]

But by degrees all Italy was involved in the struggle, Alfonso of Naples, the
Florentines, Genoese, and eventually the Venetians, supporting the Pontiff,
whilst Filippo Maria Visconti, the Angevine party at Naples, and the city of
Bologna sided with the Council. In this war Piccinino led the Milanese
army, and among his independent captains was Bernardino della Carda,
who dying in 1437, his company of 800 men-at-arms was divided between
his son Ottaviano and the young Federigo di Montefeltro. In the end of
May, 1438, the latter set out for Piccinino's camp, assisting at the siege of
Brescia, and in the opening of the Lombard war, where the rival generalship
of Nicolò and Sforza was first brought to the test, with results more
interesting in a military than an historical view. It is not to be supposed that
services performed by so youthful a soldier could much influence the
campaign, but they appear to have been approved by his commander.
Guidantonio Manfredi, generally known by the contemptuous abbreviation
of Guidaccio, had been brought up at the court of Urbino, during his father's
temporary banishment from his hereditary fief of Faenza, and had married a
daughter of Count Guidantonio di Montefeltro. In the division of parties
which we have just explained, both these feudatories adhered to the
Milanese, but as their neighbour, the Lord of Rimini, was at first a partisan
of the league, and as Bologna had but recently thrown off the papal
authority, Filippo Maria considered it advisable to strengthen his forces in
Romagna. Federigo was accordingly ordered to join his brother-in-law
Guidaccio, and acquitted himself creditably in various skirmishes with the
Tuscan troops, under Gianpaolo Orsini. The only personal incident
preserved of this petty war is one to which he was in the habit of alluding,
with something of the superstitious dread that pervades the good Sanzi's
account of it, although its character was rather grotesque than horrible.
Having marched from Faenza in bright moonlight, with a party of 400 horse
on a foraging expedition, a noise like the clashing of arms was suddenly
heard at a distance, which immediately being repeated close at hand, the
troops, with fierce and terrified aspect, rushed on each other, and for about
ten minutes fought and struggled pell-mell, while their frightened horses,
partaking in the panic, neighed and bolted in all directions. Dawn
discovered a scene of strange confusion; the infantry mounted, the cavalry
on foot, many lying wounded on the ground, not a few horses killed, others

with broken or disordered harness. This senseless alarm was never
accounted for, and was consequently ascribed to diabolical influence.
But he was soon recalled by home interests from under the command of
Guidaccio. The Malatesta, whose descent will be found in the annexed
table, had for some generations held several fiefs in Romagna and the
March of Ancona, and although a bold and warlike race, the usage in their
family of separating its seigneuries among various sons, legitimate or
natural, prevented any of them from acquiring more than a provincial
reputation or influence, until Sigismondo Pandolfo made himself famous by
his struggle with Count Federigo, and by the memorials of art which
embalm his otherwise detested name. The youngest of three bastard
brothers,[*66] he survived to unite their territories with his own, and
although connected with the Montefeltrian princes by the marriages of his
aunt and brother, he became a bitter enemy to the Count of Urbino. Indeed
the latter of these alliances, which we have noticed at page 48, served to
foster the family feud. Violante di Montefeltro had from Eugene IV. in
1431, when a mere infant, some form of grant of her native mountain-land
in vicariate, in virtue whereof, and of her assumed rights as heiress of her
nephew Duke Oddantonio, in default of his male issue, a pretended title was
eventually trumped up, in competition with Federigo's succession,[67] at all
events as regarded Montefeltro, some townships of which had already
passed in various ways to the Malatesta, with whom she intermarried. An
incursion upon the territory of Guidantonio, in the autumn of 1439,
accordingly commenced a strife which, with occasional brief interludes,
endured above twenty years, and which Sanzi thus deplores:—

"For e'en when fortune crowns the first essays
Of reckless hardihood, a reckoning hour
Of rapine, grief, and misery impend.
Such the destruction which these rival powers
Reaped from protracted broils and savage war,
While neighbouring cities, castles, towns, were sacked,
And high-born chiefs the double risk incurred
Of death or exile. There, for twice twelve years,
Italia's flower and might contended, till, in fine,
To right, by prudence, constancy, and force upheld,

Heaven gave success; the Eagle gnawed the heart
Of the great Elephant."[68]

Had Sigismondo Pandolfo possessed temper and judgment equal to his
courage and ambition, he might have obtained and consolidated a powerful
sovereignty, which his liberal and cultivated tastes would have rendered
glorious in arts as well as arms. But deeply tainted with—
"That poison foule of bubbling pride,"
his lofty daring was sustained by no continuous impulse, his impetuous
efforts were crowned by no success; the selfishness of his political aims was
equalled by the vainglorious direction he gave to art; his energies were
wasted in contests with Federigo, a rival against whom he had neither any
just quarrel, nor any chance of success; his patronage was monopolised by
poets who flattered, and medalists who portrayed himself and his favourite
mistress Isotta.
The first foray of Sigismondo into the wild valleys of Montefeltro was
repaid by Federigo, in a successful descent upon the richer possessions of
the Malatesta; but he was checked by a serious wound, before the petty
fortress of Campi, and on his recovery rejoined Guidaccio. Piccinino,
having again changed the seat of war from Lombardy to Romagna, crossed
into Tuscany, and during the summer of 1440, carried on an active but
unsuccessful campaign in the upper valley of the Tiber, till it was closed by
his complete defeat at Anghiari, leaving his baggage and half his army in
the hands of the Florentines. This battle has obtained a singular notoriety,
and affords a valuable test of condottiere tactics, where combats were
interested calculations, not internecine onsets. Machiavelli, the opponent of
that system, asserts that only one man lost his life, out of some thirty or
forty thousand combatants, and he by a fall from his horse; whilst the
largest calculation of slaughter on both sides gives but seventy killed and
six hundred wounded. Federigo was little interested in that campaign, but
ere long found occupation in the defence of his wife's rights, disputed by
Alberigo di Brancaleone. This pretender had seized on Santa Croce and
Montelocco, both of which the Count recovered in the autumn of 1442,
after a severe action, which first tested his military skill. Sigismondo

Pandolfo, having secretly abetted this onset, was punished by an attack
upon S. Leo.
That small city was the capital of Montefeltro, although this honour has
been claimed for Penna di Billi. Its situation is perhaps the most singular in
Europe. In a country whose rugged mountains and precipitous ravines seem
monuments of some tremendous primeval convulsion, there stand uptossed
two isolated pinnacles, the very obelisks of nature, rising on three sides
sheer from the valley. On the remaining side of each, a narrow and rapidly
descending ridge connects the summit with the surrounding level, affording
toilsome and precarious footing to mules and mountaineers. On either peak,
a fortress commands a cluster of dwellings, nestled wherever the rocky
crest afforded footing, and inhabited by men of iron hearts and stout sinews.
The larger of these is S. Leo, the smaller Maiuolo, and we shall often have
occasion to mention them as the chief strongholds of Montefeltro, to which
they both originally belonged,[*69] though S. Leo had for some time been
possessed by the Malatesta. Its loftiest pinnacle was crowned, in classic
times, by a temple dedicated to Jupiter Feretrius, affording an easy
etymology for Montefeltro: a later era found it sheltering a Christian hermit,
whose ascetic virtues obtained canonisation, and who left his name to the
township which rose around his cell. During the competition for her crown
which ravaged Italy in the tenth century, and rendered that the most dismal
as well as confused period of her dark ages, S. Leo became the refuge of
King Berengarius, from whence he long defied the arms of his eventually
successful rival Otho the Great: of its protracted siege, however, in 962-3,
no incidents worthy of credit have come down to us. Its circuit is estimated
at two miles, and not the least peculiar of its phenomena is a spring of
excellent water near the summit, sufficient perennially to supply the mills.
The accompanying engraving, from a sketch taken on the spot, will best
convey an idea of this remarkable site, but we may quote Sanzi's description
of it, and of its surprise by Federigo.[70]

"A city yonder stands, San Leo hight,
Whose crest the sky menaces; 'gainst its strength
No force has e'er prevailed, with scathed cliffs
And rocks environed, heavenward uprearing
Its summit, by a single path approached,
Trod singly by the citizens. Earth holds

None other deemed impregnable.
To it the Count his daring aims addressed;
And, knowing that a rock, which few to scale
Would venture, jutted midway from the ridge,
At midnight's murky hour the spot he gained,
With few but agile comrades, well prepared
With ladders; then alone and stealthily
The outposts reconnoitred, slumbering all,
Like men who knew no fears save from on high.
Next scaling one by one that arduous rock,
And reaching thence the level space beyond,
The town his soldiers entered silently.
Sudden uprose their cry, with clash of arms,
And furious blows and crackling flame, the work
Befitting, whilst the startled garrison,
Knowing nor whence nor what the sounds,
No struggle made, but rushed in desperation
Or here or there, whilst others stood transfixed
To find themselves befooled. Not more surprised
Was he who gained the golden fleece, to see
From the plough's furrow armed men spring forth,
Than were these luckless denizens to find
Their stronghold carried in the sudden fray."

A. Nini, del. A. Marchetti, sculp.
SAN LEO AND MAIUOLO
From a drawing by Agostino Nini

A somewhat different account of the means by which S. Leo was taken, has
been adopted by Baldi, from Volpelli's history of that place.[71] Matteo
Grifone, who, from being a miller at S. Angelo in Vado, became a staunch
follower of Count Federigo, and subsequently a general in the Venetian
service, obtained permission to attempt a surprise. Accompanied by twenty
picked men, he, in a dark and rainy night, gradually made his way to an
outpost which he knew to be seldom occupied, and there left all but one
comrade, with whom he effected an entrance by means of scaling-ladders.
Silently and stealthily they two went from house to house, fastening each

door with the chain which usually hung outside. At dawn, Federigo by
concert led his troops to a feigned assault, to repel which the garrison
sallied down the ridge. Grifone then, hastily admitting his men, closed the
gates upon these skirmishers, and displaying in the piazza eight pair of
colours which he had brought, raised the cry of Feltro! Feltro! The few
defenders left in the citadel, conceiving the town to have been carried, and
its inhabitants (who being barred into their dwellings could offer no
resistance) to have sided with the enemy, surrendered without a blow. A
temporary reconciliation with Sigismondo soon followed, by the
interposition of Francesco Sforza, who gave to Malatesta his natural
daughter Polissena in marriage, as a means of strengthening his hold on La
Marca.
The father of Sforza, whether by birth a peasant or a gentleman, had owed
his fortunes to his sword, which won him wealth and honours in various
Italian states, especially in Romagna and Naples.[*72] His son succeeded to
these honours, as well as to the command of his veterans, and inherited
talents and address of still higher quality. Availing himself of the enfeebled
papacy, and the confusion into which the ecclesiastical states fell during the
contest of Eugenius IV. with the Council of Basle, he overran La Marca,
whilst Fortebraccio menaced Rome itself. In order to save the latter,
Eugenius abandoned the former to Sforza, with the title of Marquis, and the
authority of Vicar; this bribe was accepted, and the service rendered for it
was the restoration of his supremacy over the rest of the papal territory. On
the death of Joanna of Naples, Francesco Sforza, now the first soldier of his
day, acknowledged René as her successor, and when that monarch, by
withdrawing in 1442, left the kingdom to his rival Alfonso, Sforza lost his
Neapolitan dignities and estates. The sacrifice was more than compensated
by his marriage with the Duke of Milan's natural daughter; yet for a time
this splendid alliance brought with it no good fruits. Filippo Maria had
acceded to it with indifferent grace, and jealousy of his son-in-law led him,
in 1443, to join Eugenius and Alfonso in a combination for wresting from
Francesco the March of Ancona.
Nicolò Piccinino being again hired to serve against his old enemy, Count
Federigo preferred, after his father's obsequies, joining him before
Monteleone to remaining idle at home, Sanzi assuring us,—

"That martial practice was his sole desire,
Ready his guard to mount by night or day,
And deeming cowardly the love of quiet."

He immediately attended his general to an interview with the King of
Naples at Terracina, embarking at Civita Vecchia; and the impression made
by him on that monarch is thus finely given by the same chronicler, in
language splendid as his reception:—

"As its bright rays the comet's track precede,
So the Count's virtues harbingered his way.
And as Apollo scattering o'er the dawn
His plumes of gold, along the orient sky,
E'er he emerges calmly from his couch,
Bears in his brilliant orb the blazing signs
Of bounteous disposition: thus the youth
Round the king's inmost heart himself entwined
With hope's sweet fillet, and a lodgment made
Firm as the solid nail in growing tree."[73]

After three days spent in concerting plans for an attack upon La Marca,
Nicolò returned to Tuscany, but Federigo was invited by Alfonso to remain
with him until the campaign should open. Ere long, however, he rejoined
his troops at Viterbo, and, after a foraging march through the enemy's
country, reached Fano just before Sforza, who had for some time remained
there awaiting his Venetian and Florentine contingents, put Piccinino once
more to the rout at Monteluro. Giovanni Sanzi, then a youth residing at
Colbordolo, went forth to see the battle, which he describes with much
spirit:—

"War's crash and clang were there; the horseman's charge
With shock impetuous, and with ringing cheers
That seemed the vaulted sky to scare. There, too,
Men huddled lay on earth with dismal howls,
Their drums and spears a booty: some the while
Encouraging, some eager, some dismayed.
The very air, with clouds surcharged and dim,

Seemed wailing for the slaughter of that day,
Its fierce assaults and sanguinary scenes."

The Count shared not in this defeat, but lent opportune aid to rally the
broken and disorganised troops, and was about this time rewarded by
Eugenius with his promised investiture of the countship of Mercatello. In
July he repaired to the baths of Campagnatico, in the Maremma, to recruit
from an attack of fever, but on his return found new occupation from the
Lord of Rimini.
The grandfather of that seigneur was Galeotto Malatesta, whose patrimony
included Rimini, Faenza, and Fossombrone, and whose elder brother,
Malatesta Malatesta, had transmitted the fief of Pesaro to his great-grandson
Galeazzo. This Galeazzo was a man of feeble parts and degraded character,
altogether unable to maintain his authority over a disgusted people, or to
cope with his bold and ambitious cousin Sigismondo of Rimini. After the
defeat of Monteluro, he had reluctantly received into Pesaro some of
Piccinino's stragglers, and Sigismondo availed himself of this pretext to
persuade his father-in-law Sforza to seize and make over to him that city.
But Francesco, intent on sustaining his interests in La Marca, soon left the
affair in the hands of Sigismondo, who, although able to overrun the
surrounding country, could make no impression upon the capital, held by
Count Federigo, even after its poor-spirited lord had withdrawn to Forlì.
Thus baffled for eighteen months, the impetuous Sigismondo, by way of
cutting short the contest, sent to Federigo this insolent challenge:—
"To the Lord Federigo of Montefeltro, Captain-General of
the illustrious Count Francesco Sforza.
"Mighty Lord,
"Your lordship knows the difference long existing between
us, and, if you judge rightly, you will perceive the fault to lie
on your side, not on mine. Patience is no virtue of mine, and
so far from appearing disposed to amend them, you daily
multiply your errors. Anew have you written calumnies
against me to the Court of Rome, and caused ill to be spoken
of me. I am determined to bear it no longer, but to show,
with my person against yours, that I am a better man than

you, for in sooth you are a bad one, and do amiss to affront
me. I therefore send to you Signor Giovanni da Sassoferrato,
my chancellor, with full authority to inquire as to the duel
which by your letter you have already accepted. And
although Signor Giovanni holds a public instrument of
mandate, I wished to write this letter as of more ample
authority, praying that you will accept it: which I feel
assured you, as the brave man you avow yourself and ought
to be, will do; and that you will thereupon please to send one
of your people of weight, informed of your wishes as to the
manner, time, and place of our fighting, so that all may be
settled. I have said of weight, that he may be qualified to fix
upon a place with him whom I shall send, so that we may
understand each other. And that this your agent may repair
hither in safety with four horses, this letter will be an ample
and valid safe conduct for his freely coming, staying, and
returning. And in case of your refusal, which I do not
believe, I warn you that I shall proceed against you more or
less, according to the usual practice, as I may see fit.
"Sigismondo Podolfo di Malatesta.[74]
"Rimini, the 21st of February, 1445."
This cartel was answered as became a high-spirited knight; but, on reaching
the rendezvous under the walls of Pesaro, Federigo was surprised to find his
adversary absent. No explanation appears of this failure beyond Sanzi's
expressive exclamation,—
"Ah! foul dishonour to the recreant lord!"
and Sigismondo, covered with ridicule, was glad to patch up a truce with
his cousin Galeazzo.[*75]

CHAPTER V
Count Federigo succeeds to Urbino and acquires Fossombrone—His
connection with the Sforza family, whereby he incurs excommunication
—His campaign in the Maremma—Loses his eye in a tournament.

I
T was during the siege of Pesaro that Federigo heard of the horrible
catastrophe, by which his brother Oddantonio, on the 22nd July, 1444,
atoned the excesses of his brief sovereignty. But this assassination, the
result of a sudden outbreak, indicated no general disloyalty to the race
of Montefeltro. The virtues and moderation of Guidantonio were fresh in
men's minds; Federigo was personally liked, and his recent feats of arms,
under the eyes of his countrymen, were accepted as first fruits of a growing
fame. The fief might indeed be held as lapsed by the close of the male line,
but there were abundant precedents of reinvestitures to illegitimate
successors, and the citizens of Urbino, shocked at their own outrage, sought
to remedy the past by a prompt return to duty.[*76] Sanzi accordingly tells us
that the factious and blood-thirsty populace wonderfully united in electing
as their seigneur the heroic Federigo, who, meanwhile, informed by the
bishop of the tumult and its results, had repaired to Urbino, where, on the
following day, conditions were formally offered and accepted as the terms
on which he was chosen. The instrument containing the demands of the
people, and his replies to each, will be found in the Appendix IV., and
throws some light upon the extent of popular rights, and the manner of
enforcing them, in the despotic communities of Italy. Divested of the rude
style in which they were expressed, these concessions were to the following
purpose:—

1. A general amnesty for the recent revolution.[77]
2. Bimonthly election of the priors of Urbino, with certain powers, and
with a salary of fifteen ducats.
3. A new house for the priors.

4. A reduction of assessments from five and a half to four soldi in the
lira.
5. Revocation of all donations made posterior to Guidantonio.
6. Similar revocation of immunities and privileges granted to the
nobility and communes.
7. Control by the citizens of the watching and warding fees.
8. Application of a tierce of all escheats to the use of public works.
9. Promise to impose no new taxes, except in urgent circumstances.
10. Trimestral elections of the chamberlain.
11. The notaries acting as clerks of military orders and of sentences to
be boxed (imbussolari) with their salaries and perquisites.
12. Reform of the measures for salt.
13. Semestral change of the podestà and certain other officers, without
intervention of the Count.
14. Appointment of two medical officers bound to attend to all
ratepayers, their salaries to be charged on the community.
15. Similar appointment of a schoolmaster and assistant.
16. The camp-captains of Urbino to be citizens.
17. Abolition of recent oppressive tolls, which impede the passage of
merchants.
18. Payment to creditors of the two last sovereigns.
19. Biennial election of two appassati[78] for Urbino.
20. An additional clerk for the priors.

Alinari
FEDERIGO OF URBINO
From the XV. Century relief in the Bargello,
Florence

On the 1st of August proclamation was made of a reduction of imposts, the
regulation of salt measures at thirty-three pounds to the quarter, and the
remission of condemnations. Besides these conditions, Federigo granted or
confirmed to his capital a constitution, which, however, was rather of a
municipal than political character, and which consisted in two general
councils, one composed of thirty-two, the other of twenty-four, citizens.
These preliminaries arranged, deputations flocked from Gubbio and the

other communities to offer their obedience, and were soon followed by
congratulations from neighbouring powers.

The political aspect of Central Italy, and the condition of her princes, during
this century, are thus sketched by a recent writer:—"Their feeble and
unquiet domination was obtained sometimes by usurpations from rivals,
from the people, or from the Church, sometimes by authority wrested
originally from pope or emperor, and subsequently sanctioned, which was
wielded now with more, now with less, rigour; but all of them were
encompassed by a numerous following, were devoted to the profession of
mercenary war, and were at once the abettors and dreaders of rebellions,
ambushes, poisonings. Various were the vicissitudes of these chiefs. In
order to oust a competitor, they would offer large concessions to the Church
or the populace, and having attained to sovereignty would gradually curtail
these until the community called in another master, to be in like manner
supplanted by a third. In other cases they compromised their disputes by
partitioning cities or principalities. Frequently the Pontiff would favour one
faction in order to put down another, and to profit by their mutual strife;
again, he would elevate a third over them both, under cloak of freedom. It
was, in short, constant wavering between abuses and concessions, tyranny
and licence; the seigneur intent upon extending his influence, although by
dishonest means, the people prompt to diminish it even to anarchy."[79]
This description might be justly applied to the Montefeltrian holdings under
most of their early counts, but a brighter day dawned upon the duchy with
Federigo's accession, and Urbino had the singular fortune during the next
hundred and ninety years, and under the sway of two dynasties numbering
five sovereigns, to be equally exempt from oppression and disorder, from
domestic broils and disputed successions; to be governed by princes not less
beloved at home than respected abroad, whose brows might be graced by
olive or laurel, according to the spirit or the exigencies of the time, but who
ever entwined with it the myrtle wreath.
The policy and manners of Federigo, equally prudent and conciliatory,
confirmed the favourable anticipations previously formed, and are thus

depicted by his contemporary Sanzi:—

"His flower of youth was bursting into bloom;
Mild beyond measure, merciful and just,
Fervent in piety, in counsel sage;
Heedless of thirst or hunger, cold or heat;
Unworn by watching, vigorous his frame,
Gladsome his gentle mien; prompt to obey,
Or play the master as the case may be,
Or to persuade: rare gifts in warrior bold!
Wary and watchful in his generalship,
The hearts of e'en his foes he knew to win
By kind forbearance in the battle field.
From anger, pride, and avarice exempt,
But courteous, liberal, eloquent, and true,
In him each lofty grace spontaneous grew."

If the accusation be well founded, which we have formerly stated against
Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, of corrupting Oddantonio's morals, in the
hope of supplanting him in his seigneury, the easy succession of Federigo
must have brought him bitter disappointment. His total failure before Pesaro
aggravated this annoyance, and he vented his spite by simultaneous inroads
on two opposite quarters of Urbino. A conspiracy against Federigo,
discovered about this time, was also perhaps the fruit of his intrigues; but,
being discovered, its authors were led to the block, whilst the adherents of
Malatesta were repulsed from the frontier. In this state of matters, the Count
of Urbino (for the dukedom had died with Oddantonio) was surprised by an
offer from Galeazzo Malatesta to sell him the seigneuries of Pesaro and
Fossombrone, nominally his, which he found himself incompetent to defend
from his rapacious neighbour of Rimini. The proposal was tempting, for
both these possessions lay admirably to Urbino, and would extend its
frontier to the Adriatic. But Federigo's position was one of delicacy between
Sigismondo Malatesta on one hand, and Francesco Sforza on the other, both
anxious to acquire those fiefs, and both his personal enemies. The death at
this very juncture of his old friend and commander Nicolò Piccinino, which
appeared to complicate his embarrassment, proved the means of relieving it.
Sforza, having watched his rising reputation, calculated more advantage
from his friendship than his opposition, and availed himself of the

opportunity presented by Piccinino's demise, to make conciliatory
overtures. Before committing himself, Federigo offered his services to the
Pope, which being declined, with full licence to dispose of them as he
pleased, he at once closed with Sforza, accepting a command, with four
hundred lances and as many infantry, for the common defence of their
respective states. This arrangement transferred his banner from the Braccian
to the Sforzan party, battalions originally embodied under the rival captains
from whom they were respectively designated, but distinguished in name,
and regarded as the type of opposite systems, long after their founders had
passed away. The tactics of Braccio di Montone were rapid and decisive,
the policy of Attendolo Sforza cautious to a proverb; extremes which the
Count of Urbino's practice was considered happily to have combined. In
order to complete the necessary stipulations, he repaired to Fermo on a visit
to Francesco, and passed some weeks there, returning on the 10th of
December.
It remained to adjust the affair of Pesaro and Fossombrone. The despicable
lord of these fiefs had a granddaughter, Costanza Varana, whose pedigree in
relation to the Montefeltrian princes we have explained, and who had
gained the affections of Alessandro, brother of Francesco Sforza. Federigo,
unable to pay for both seigneuries, or unwilling to hazard the odium which
so sudden an aggrandisement might incur, proceeded on the 9th of January
to Jesi, and proposed to the two Sforza that Francesco should purchase
Pesaro for Alessandro, who should marry Costanza, whilst Fossombrone
should be united to Urbino.[*80] The suggestion being no less agreeable than
beneficial to all parties, it was heartily acceded to, and, ere many weeks
passed, an arrangement was completed, whereby Galeazzo, exchanging the
alarms of insecure sovereignty for a contemptible retirement, made over
Pesaro to Alessandro and Fossombrone to Federigo, for the respective sums
of 20,000 and 13,000 ducats or florins of gold, reserving the mills and his
other allodial property; and thereafter withdrew to Florence, where, on the
death of his talented and neglected wife Battista di Montefeltro in a
convent, he married a lady of the Medici, and is said to have ended his
ignoble life in misery. On the 16th of March, the nuptials of Alessandro
Sforza with Costanza Varana were happily accomplished; she inherited
much of her grandmother's capacity, and transmitted it to her youngest

daughter, Battista, who in due time became second wife of Count Federigo.
[81]

This partition, apparently so advantageous to Francesco Sforza, was but the
beginning of mischief. His son-in-law Sigismondo, ever
"On brawls and battle-fields intent,"
could ill brook the disappointment of his designs upon two fiefs long in his
family, and admirably suited to consolidate his territory by incorporating
Fano with Rimini; still less could he submit to be cut out of them by his
especial enemy Federigo. Another circumstance had lately occurred to
exasperate against Francesco his ever jealous father-in-law the Duke of
Milan. Ciarpelion, one of his favourite captains, had been induced to accept
from Visconti the command vacated by Piccinino's death, but his
application for a furlough was answered by the provost-marshal, who
hanged him after inflicting horrible tortures. Thus were his wife's father and
his daughter's husband united against the Lord of La Marca, nor did they
find it difficult to rekindle in the Pope and the King of Naples their dormant
jealousies of a soldier of fortune, whose possessions were desirable spoil to
them both. He was consequently assailed at once by three of the chief
powers of Italy, and by several of the petty feudatories and independent
captains, whilst, as Florence and Venice were but lukewarm allies, he had
no efficient aid to look for, beyond that of his recent but faithful friend
Federigo. With him accordingly he drew more closely the bonds of amity,
and in the end of June paid him a visit of five days at Urbino, accompanied
by his family, when Sanzi tells us they exchanged reciprocal pledges of a
romantic brotherhood in arms, preparatory to the empty dignity of general-
in-chief, conferred upon the Count by Sforza on the 15th of July.
The province which accidental circumstances had subjected to Francesco
gave him but a feeble tenure of sovereignty. It extended along the Adriatic
sea-board from Sinigaglia to the Tronto, including the Marshes of Ancona
and Fermo, lately the richest portion of the Papal States. But time was
wanting to consolidate his dominion, and to give him that hold upon the
affections and interests of his people which is ever wanting to upstart
potentates. The very extent of his territory thus became an element of peril,
and the danger was aggravated by the ill-timed accession to it of Upper

Abruzzo as far as Pescara, which, throwing off the yoke of Alfonso, placed
itself under his protection, giving another pretext to the confederates for
accelerating their attack. This, however, the Marquis[82] anticipated by
hurrying to the north, and attacking his son-in-law's possessions about
Fano. Leaving there an army, under his brother Alessandro and the Count of
Urbino, to intercept the Milanese forces, he proceeded to Florence, and by
the aid of Cosimo de' Medici obtained a considerable sum of money. On his
return he carried La Pergola after a gallant defence. But these exertions
were all in vain. His subjects, proverbially fickle, bound to him by no
hereditary attachment, and alarmed by the extensive preparations maturing
for his destruction, prepared to abandon his cause, and seek for protection
under their former ecclesiastical masters. Ascoli first raised the standard of
insurrection, and slew Rinaldo, uterine brother of the Marquis; but the
contagion quickly spread, and although, by forced marches and the most
strenuous efforts, he for a time kept the country in obedience, and even
recovered several revolted castles, the loss of Rocca Contrada, seduced by
the intrigues of Sigismondo, closed the most available pass that remained to
him. From that moment his cause seemed desperate, and it became his
object to provide for the safety of his troops and few remaining strongholds
during the approaching winter, in the hope that spring might bring him
better fortune. The garrisons of Fermo and Jesi were succoured, and his
cavalry were quartered in the valleys of Urbino, whilst he took up his
quarters in Pesaro. But ere the year ended, Fermo his capital rose, and the
garrison were starved into a capitulation.
Federigo had shared in all the fatigues of this campaign, and had gained
what distinction could be gathered from its skirmishes and petty sieges. He
thus earned the special indignation of Eugenius, whose legate vainly
represented to him the folly of adhering to a cause irretrievably lost. Even
after Alessandro Sforza had been induced by these arguments to give his
adhesion to the Pontiff, the Count of Urbino, deeming it disgraceful to
swerve from his plighted troth, afforded shelter and protection at Gubbio to
the Marquis's family, thus compelled to retire from Pesaro. His reward was
papal excommunication, and a new inroad on his devoted state by the
Perugian troops, at the instance of Filippo Maria Visconti.
But the tide of adversity had nearly spent itself. The Venetians and
Florentines, at length roused to exertions in behalf of their ally, brought

their forces into the field. The former advanced to support Cremona, which
belonged to Sforza, but was now assailed by his father-in-law; the latter
marched three thousand cavalry and a thousand foot into Romagna.
Francesco and Federigo, on the strength of this seasonable reinforcement,
resumed the offensive, and challenged the ecclesiastical army to a trial of
strength, the Count adding a special defiance to personal combat with
Sigismondo. Both invitations were evaded or declined, and as the Sforza
battalions marched round the camp of an enemy superior in numbers,—a
clang of triumph echoing from their trumpets,—and assailed them with
hisses and insulting cries, the moral effect was perhaps equal to a victory.
[83] This was in October, and during the autumn many petty successes were
gained over Malatesta about Pesaro, Alessandro Sforza having reunited his
interests with those of his brother. The Venetians were meanwhile so
pressing upon Visconti in Lombardy that he hastened to make overtures of
reconciliation with his son-in-law, who, gladly profiting by the opportunity
to retrieve his damaged position, found some paltry excuse to shake himself
loose from the Republic, and, by one of those rapid tergiversations which
free lances were privileged to perform, turned his arms against his
defenders. Policy, if not honour, justified this course, for the declining
health of Filippo Maria held out to Sforza new hopes of the Milanese
succession, and gave him a strong inducement to defend that territory from
neighbours so powerful and ambitious. The confederacy being thus broken
up, peace was restored to Romagna by a treaty of the 11th March, 1447; but
Sigismondo, deeply disgusted at the entire failure of his calculations, which,
presuming on the utter ruin of Federigo, had made sure of acquiring Urbino,
Montefeltro, Durante, Gubbio, Fossombrone, and Pesaro, impatiently
awaited an opportunity for revenge. In the autumn of that year he was
enabled by the cabal of a few discontented citizens to seize Fossombrone,
but within three days it was recovered by Federigo, to the great joy of its
inhabitants, who celebrated by thanksgivings and festivals their release
from a tyrant's odious yoke. The misery of these intestine wars is illustrated
by an anecdote mentioned of this assault, that the Count conceived it
necessary to stimulate the ardour of his soldiery by promising them the
pillage of this his own city; and he is stated to have earned the praise of a
most just and lenient prince, by restraining their fury until he had placed the
women in safety.

During the year 1447, there occurred two deaths of great moment to Italy,
those of Pope Eugenius IV. and Filippo Maria Duke of Milan. Gabriele
Condolmiere of Venice owed his promotion to his countryman Gregory
XII., whose nephew he is said to have been, and received the triple tiara in
March, 1431, when but forty-eight years of age. His reign was one of
turbulence, for the convulsions consequent upon his policy disorganised
Italy, and threatened Christendom with a new schism. Putting himself at
once in hostility with the Colonna, whose power had grown formidable
under their kinsman Martin V., he exposed Rome to be pillaged by their
lawless bands. Soon after, he was glad to fly in disguise to Florence, leaving
his capital in the hands of a republican faction, and oppressed by the
partisans of Braccio. As the last hope of recovering a portion of his territory
from the various condottieri who ravaged it, and "dreading a perilous
contest more than an ignominious peace,"[84] he recognised Francesco
Sforza, the most influential of them, as Lord or Marquis of La Marca, and
created him Gonfaloniere of the Church. But with the bad faith which
marked the age, he sought to rid himself of the instrument as soon as his
purpose was served. Restless in his policy, headstrong in his counsels, to
him in a great measure was owing that perturbed state of Italy, which, when
once become normal, continued, until the descent of the French in 1492, to
realise the graphic description of Machiavelli: "Peace it cannot be called,
whilst the princes were frequently fighting; neither can such struggles well
be regarded as warfare, where men were not slain, nor cities sacked, nor
sovereignties sacrificed; for so feeble became these strifes, that they were
commenced without alarm, were conducted without risk, and closed
without damage."[85] Nor was his management of spiritual interests more
commendable. His quarrel with the Council of Basle gave him a rival
antipope, and might have cost him his tiara, but for an unexpected overture
of the last Emperor of Constantinople to unite the Greek and Latin
Churches. Such, however, was his good fortune, that the completion of that
union, the cruel persecutions he directed against the Hussites, and his
ascetic rejection of personal indulgences to which he was indifferent, have
gained for him the reputation of a zealot in faith, a saint in morals, and
withal a pillar of the papacy.
The Pontiff's death was followed within six months by that of Filippo
Maria, last of the Visconti, a race whose sway in Milan is alleged to date

from the eleventh century, and whose twelve princes of that city have been
commemorated by the flattering pen of Giovio. They owe their place in
history rather to the importance of their duchy, and to the European
marriages of their later generations, than to personal illustration. The
immediate succession to Filippo Maria convulsed Upper Italy during nearly
three years, and the dispute, when revived half a century later, brought upon
the Peninsula those barbarian aggressions from which she has till now been
a chronic sufferer. His only child, the illegitimate Bianca Maria, had been
reluctantly bestowed by him on Francesco Sforza, whom his jealous temper
regarded as a rival and enemy, instead of conciliating as a son and useful
ally. The house of Orleans were heirs of line of his family, but their title
derived little strength by their mother's legitimacy, where female descent
could give no valid claim to inheritance. The late Duke's testamentary
bequest of his sovereignty to Alfonso of Naples, was clearly beyond his
legal powers, so that the best right seemed that of the Emperor, in virtue of
the lapsed fief. But ere any one of these four competitors was aware that the
succession had opened, the citizens of Milan possessed themselves of the
vacant authority, and their example was partially followed in neighbouring
towns, several of which attempted to establish a Lombard republican
confederacy with Milan at its head. In the struggles which ensued, and to
which Venice and Florence became parties, the Count of Urbino took no
share. The fate of Milan was decided rather by famine than the sword, and
in February, 1450, the populace escaped from their sufferings by accepting
Sforza as successor of his father-in-law.
The Milanese succession was not, however, without its influence on Central
Italy, and upon the fortunes of Count Federigo of Urbino. In the late contest
on the Lombard plains, Florence and Venice had, in observance of a long-
established and obvious policy, opposed the ambitious projects of Filippo
Maria, but had acceded to the new Pontiff's proposal for a congress at
Ferrara, in order to arrange a general peace. To this Visconti lent himself in
no good faith, having concerted with the King of Naples that they should
each attack one of these republics, as soon as Francesco Sforza should be
secured to their side. Even whilst the congress was sitting, Alfonso obtained
a footing in the Upper Val d'Arno, and although the death of his confederate
abrogated their secret understanding, the opportunity of pursuing his selfish
designs upon Tuscany continued favourable; for Venice was occupied in a

fresh struggle with Sforza, and his own pretensions upon Milan, under the
late Duke's will, would be much enhanced could he bear the trophies of
Florence to the banks of the Po. He, however, offered to abstain from
hostilities, on condition that free passage and provisions were allowed to his
army, and that the city, now ruled by Cosimo de' Medici, should renounce
its Venetian alliance. It required but little consideration to reject terms
which would have opened to him the Milanese, where his success must
have destroyed the balance of power in the Peninsula.
Disappointed of Siena, which refused his fair offers, Alfonso turned into the
valley of the Cecina, and having possessed himself of Pomerance,
Campigli, Castiglione,[*86] and other townships in the Maremma, proposed
to winter there. But he was promptly checked by Count Federigo, whom the
Florentine Council had taken into their service,[87] and the spring arrived
without any considerable movement or advantage on either side. There now
occurred an incident highly characteristic of his bitter foe Sigismondo, in
which he showed to advantage by the contrast. The Lord of Rimini, having
been engaged by Alfonso, received from him 30,000 ducats in advance of
pay, but, more intent upon selfish ends than on his promised service, he
misapplied the money, and availed himself of the Count's absence from
Urbino to repeat his attack upon Fossombrone and some neighbouring
castles. In order to palliate this breach of faith, he wrote to the King that it
was in truth a well-laid scheme for his benefit, Federigo being sure to
hasten from Tuscany for the defence of his own subjects. The calculation
was however defeated, as the Count, with the fidelity seldom found or
expected among free lances, refused to quit his post, resting the safety of his
people upon their own gallantry and devotion. When Alfonso perceived
this, he summoned Malatesta to join him, but, whether from innate
treachery or apprehension, he preferred offering himself and his contingent
of above two thousand men to the Florentines, against whom he was
actually engaged to serve. Apart from the unpleasant position in which it
placed himself, this tergiversation seemed to Federigo so outrageous a
treason as to require from him a special protest; but his usual conscientious
adherence to a temporary banner prevailing over honourable scruples and
personal disgust, he kept the field, and even consented to adjourn all private
quarrels with Sigismondo to the end of the campaign. It was marked by no
circumstance of interest beyond the King's ineffectual attempt upon

Piombino, the peninsular capital of a petty fief belonging to the Appiani,
then confederates of the Republic. The marsh-fever of the Maremma,

"Where the path
Is lost in rank luxuriance, and to breathe
Is to inhale distemper, if not death,"

seconded its brave resistance, and Alfonso was glad to return home in the
autumn after sacrificing a portion of his army, while the Count of Urbino
retired to his state. But during their joint service under the Florentine
banner, Sigismondo had found opportunity for the exercise of his intriguing
spirit. Demanding audience of Federigo, he remonstrated against his having
aided in the establishment at Pesaro of a stranger, to the vast detriment of its
hereditary seigneurs the Malatesta, so long neighbours and kindred of the
Montefeltri; and in token of the thanklessness of that service he showed a
bond, whereby Alessandro Sforza had allied himself with Sigismondo for
the partition of Urbino and its dependencies. With such evidence before
him, Federigo lent himself to an offer made by the false Lord of Rimini to
turn the tables against Sforza, and to surrender all of the Montefeltrian
territory that he had gained two years before, provided the Count would aid
him in ousting the intruder from Pesaro. But with characteristic treachery he
availed himself of a favourable moment to attack that town single-handed,
and Federigo, satisfied of his utter faithlessness, rushed to the rescue,
reclaiming by this new and noble-minded service the gratitude of
Alessandro and of his brother. As soon as the latter was acknowledged
Duke of Milan, he offered the Count of Urbino an engagement, in highly
complimentary terms, stating that, after full consideration to whom he could
worthily commit the conduct of his army, whereon depended the whole
welfare of his state, he had fixed upon Federigo, having long known and
clearly ascertained his extraordinary and unfailing fidelity, authority,
gravity, prudence, promptitude, justice, wisdom, and diligence in the
conduct of every great enterprise.[*88] The Tuscan war being over, this
appointment was readily accepted by the Count, although suffering from a
painful and dangerous accident.

Alinari
FRANCESCO SFORZA
From the XV. Century relief in the Bargello,
Florence

In honour of the Duke's exaltation, he had proclaimed a tournament at
Urbino, which Sanzi assures us was preceded by omens of evil. In
particular, his mother, influenced by a horrible dream, besought him on her
knees to abandon the intention. Though a firm believer in astrology, his
mind repudiated this superstition, which however diffused among all ranks
a feeling of vague anxiety as the jousting day approached. Just then there
arrived Guidangelo de' Ranieri, a gentleman of Urbino, who had gained the
prize in a recent passage of arms at Florence; he was met at the city gates

by the Count, who embraced him, placing on his neck the knightly guerdon
of a golden chain. Being asked to run a course with him, Guidangelo would
have excused himself, and is even said to have earned a sharp reproof for
forbearing to touch him, in deference to the prevailing apprehension of
some impending mishap. On repeating the course, the knight being
mounted on a small charger, his lance, after striking Federigo's armour,
glanced upwards, and was shivered against his vizor. He received the
stunning blow between the eyebrows, where it shattered the bone of his
nose and knocked out his right eye. Recovering himself, however, he kept
his seat, and consoled those who flocked around in consternation, by
assuring them of a speedy cure, and that one of his two good eyes
remaining, he would still be able to see better than with a hundred ordinary
ones. This courageous bearing was perhaps the best recipe, and his cure
appears to have been rapid and easy; but the damage to his features may be
presumed from subsequent portraits representing him in profile, which,
whilst concealing the loss of his eye, exaggerated the prominence of his
broken nose.[*89]

CHAPTER VI
Count Federigo enters the Neapolitan service—His two campaigns in
Tuscany—Fall of Constantinople—Peace of Lodi—Nicholas V.—The
Count’s fruitless attempt at reconciliation with Sigismondo Pandolfo
Malatesta; followed by new feuds with him—Death of his Countess
Gentile.

T
HE establishment of Francesco Sforza as Duke of Milan had
virtually settled the affairs of Lombardy, for although the Emperor
and the French King refused to recognise his rights to the Visconti
succession, they deferred their respective claims upon that duchy till
a fitter season. The Angevine pretensions to the crown of Naples were also
in temporary abeyance, and the triple tiara had passed from the turbulent
Eugenius to Nicholas V., whose early habits of scholarship continued
undisturbed by ambitious dreams. There thus seemed no element of
contention left, and a prolonged peace was the natural as well as the true
policy of Italy. But, in the words of Sanzi,

"No long repose Ausonia e'er can brook,
For peace to her brings languor, and she deems
It loathsome to lie fallow."

So paltry were the pretexts, so remote the motives for renewed hostilities,
that Sismondi is content to ascribe these to diplomatic intrigue, seconded by
a general irritability of temperaments, and avows that, ere they were
resumed, a review of interests and reconstruction of alliances became
absolutely necessary. Venice and Florence had hitherto co-operated to
protect themselves, and maintain a balance against the ambitious dynasties
of Visconti and Aragon; but jealousy of the terra-firma acquisitions of the
former having induced her sister republic to league with Sforza, she
consulted at once her safety and her vengeance by an intimate union with
Alfonso. Sigismondo Malatesta being retained in her service, the Duke of
Milan bought him over by an offer of better terms, and the Count of Urbino,
finding himself thus exposed to the same contact with his personal enemy
which had recently annoyed him in the Maremma campaign, renounced his

engagement with Sforza, and as a natural consequence transferred it to the
other side. The King of Naples, disgusted by the late treachery of
Sigismondo, and by similar instances of light faith on the part of other
Italian condottieri, had announced his determination to employ none of
them without sureties for their fidelity. But he made an exception in favour
of Federigo, declining his offer of the Venetian signory as his sponsors, on
the ground that he knew his word to be sufficient guarantee. In
consequence, however, of the coronation of Frederick III. at Rome, and his
stay in Italy, it was not until 1452 that these arrangements were so far
completed as to enable the Venetians to declare war upon Sforza in May of
that year, and Alfonso to publish hostilities with Florence in the following
month.[90]
The King being desirous of bringing into notice his natural son Ferdinando
Duke of Calabria, the destined heir of his crown, now placed him at the
head of 8000 cavalry, and half that number of foot soldiers, but bestowed on
Federigo the rank and title of Captain-general. Entering Tuscany by
Cortona, this army penetrated by the valleys of Chiana and Arno, carrying
terror almost to the gates of Florence, and overrunning a vast extent of
country. But no permanent impression was made, for, trusting to the
artillery of Siena, which was refused him, Alfonso had not provided his
troops with the means of taking any strong places. It accordingly cost them
six weeks to reduce Foiano, and after spending as long before Castellina,
the bursting of their only battering-gun rendered further perseverance
useless. Thus when they betook themselves to winter quarters at Aquaviva
on the Mediterranean coast, they could boast no important result of the
campaign. A colourable pretext was thus afforded for murmurs from the
captains, many of whom served reluctantly under a commander so much
their junior. Although these complaints reached Alfonso, they no way
diminished his confidence in Federigo, whom he encouraged to meet such
jealousy by redoubled exertions. In order to arrange a plan of operations,
the Count repaired to Naples, and received from him a cordial welcome. As
spring advanced, the pestilent air of the Maremma, which had formerly
compromised the Neapolitan army in
"That sun-bright land of beauty,"

again proved their scourge. Many officers and men were attacked by fever,
and among them the Captain-general, who was removed to Siena whilst his
troops fell back upon Pitigliano.
The following letter, written by him during an earlier stage of his malady,
and probably in reply to pressing invitations from the priors of that city,
proves his reluctance to leave his post:—
"Mighty and potent Lords, dearest Fathers;
"Although I have experienced the singular goodwill,
paternal affection, and love displayed by your lordships
towards myself and my house, not only now and on this
occasion, but in other times and circumstances, yet the
renewed offers and cordial proposals so freely made me in
your most courteous letters, in reference to this illness of
mine, have imposed upon me further and greater obligations.
Not that I admit these to render me more devoted to your
lordships than before, seeing that I was already your son,
and as such sincerely attached to your state and magnificent
community: but I desire your lordships to be aware that I
acknowledge my obligations to be ever and greatly on the
increase, and that I am most anxious to acquit them, so far as
in my power, for the advancement of your lordships' honour
and advantage. More I cannot at present; nevertheless, being
desirous to do my best, I give your lordships infinite thanks;
and having nothing new to offer, I yet tender what has been
yours a thousand years past,—my state and person; assuring
your lordships that, in so far as consists with my honour,
your lordships may dispose of me and mine, as a son faithful
and devoted beyond all others. Notwithstanding a violent
and serious attack of illness, I have not thought fit to come
to Siena, nor to repair to any other part of your lordships'
territory (though ready to go thither with the same
confidence as to my own house), because from the first I
resisted leaving my illustrious Lord Duke, however
unimportant my remaining by him might be. Since then,
thanks to God, I have gone on improving, and am now pretty

well, so that I hope to be speedily quite restored; whereof I
wished to inform you, convinced that it would be gratifying
to your lordships, from whom I pray instructions, should
anything occur that I can do. From his Majesty's successful
army at Aquaviva, the 26th of July, 1453.
"Federigo Count of Montefeltro, Urbino, and Durante,
Captain-general of the Serene King of Aragon."[91]
This campaign differed little in tactics, and no way in results, from that in
which Federigo, under the Florentine standard, had lately contested much of
the same ground with Alfonso. We pass rapidly over the events of both, for
although minutely dwelt upon by his biographers, and tending to develop
his military science and reputation, they were marked by no brilliant
incidents, and involved no general interests. Machiavelli, ever willing to
sneer at mercenary warfare, observes that places were then deemed
impregnable which in his day were abandoned as untenable, and explains
the policy of the invaded to consist in avoiding a general engagement; "for
they deemed it impossible to be ultimately worsted, so long as they were
not beaten in any pitched battle, the loss of petty castles being recovered
with returning peace, while more important places were secure in the
enemy's inability to assault them."[92]
The Count's engagement was renewed by the King of Naples in autumn for
another year on the same terms, which appear from the Oliveriana MSS. to
have been 1500 ducats a month for his own pay, 8 ducats, of ten gigli, for
each lance, and 2 for each foot-soldier; his company to consist of 700
lances and 600 infantry. No active service was, however, required; and the
general pacification, to which Alfonso reluctantly acceded in January, 1455,
restored matters to their former state,—the usual issue of such contests.
Europe was now startled by an event which exposed Italy to peculiar peril.
The Eastern Empire had long been falling into feeble senility, and in
proportion as her vigour relaxed and her frontier receded, the Crescent
extended its domination, and menaced the Bosphorus. The Greeks appealed
for aid to Western Christendom; but men's enthusiasm had become
selfishness; the crusading spirit was extinct, and the cry echoed unheeded
along the Mediterranean shores. The siege of Constantinople by Mahomet

II., a barbarian endowed with qualities which would have shone in any
sphere, might have been prevented or raised by very moderate efforts of the
Italian powers; and it was not until the loss of that great capital, that they
perceived the folly of their neglect, which had sacrificed the best bulwark of
Europe against Ottoman aggression. But besides this general consternation,
the maritime republics staggered beneath the blow, for it annihilated that
trade with the Archipelago and the Euxine which had crowded their ports
and filled their coffers; and when Constantinople fell, many wealthy
Christian merchants, there resident, were stripped of their property, and
passed into menial slavery. It was in the moment of universal alarm, that
Nicholas V. urged a general reconciliation and league of Italy, with a zeal
which, notwithstanding the doubts of Simonetta adopted by Sismondi, we
believe to have been sincere. The congress held for this purpose at Rome
was, however, distracted by narrow views and shallow intrigues, and broke
up without effecting its object. Yet, ere long, policy prevailed over petty
ends, and the peace of Lodi, signed in April, 1454, to which at first only
Venice and Milan were parties, was ratified within a few months by all the
Peninsular states, and secured to them a long period of comparative repose.
This pacification of Italy, which the Pontiff had ardently desired, he was not
long spared to witness, for he closed his exemplary life on the 24th of
March. Tommaso de' Parentucelli, though of Pisan parentage, was born and
brought up at Sarzana, from whence he took his usual designation. He was
early vowed to the Church in consequence of his mother's dream, and at the
University of Bologna his progress attracted notice from the bishop, who
took him into his family, where he remained for about twenty years. On the
return of Eugenius to Rome, in 1443, he was elevated to the purple, as vice-
camerlingo; and three years and a half later, was chosen to succeed that
Pontiff. The tastes and habits of scholarship which Nicholas had formed in
early youth preserved their ascendency after this remarkable advancement.
The first object of his government was the maintenance of general peace;
and when he had failed to effect this, his uniform policy was neutrality. His
attention was thus left free to follow out, for the benefit of his subjects, and
of mankind, those aspirations for justice, and those enlarged views of
mental development which formed his character. The revenues which other
pontiffs of that age misapplied to promote miserable contests, or lavished
on schemes of nepotism and courtly vices, he directed into more

wholesome channels. Magnificent in all that could lend dignity to the
religion of whose faith and ritual he was the guardian, careful of whatever
could promote the dignity of his sacred office, an economical management
enabled him largely to gratify his literary longings. At his court, habits of
study were an unfailing recommendation; mental acquirements were duly
honoured, and men of letters were sure of finding a generous and
enlightened friend. With him originated the Vatican library, which, under
liberal popes, and by favourable opportunities, has since been gradually
augmented into one of the brightest ornaments of the papacy. His mild and
useful reign ended far too soon for the welfare of Italy and the interests of
letters, but the light which it diffused scattered the last shadows of the dark
ages, and still gilds the remainder of this century.
It chanced that a few days before peace had been concluded, a subsidy of
36,000 ducats reached Federigo from the King of Naples, which he
immediately offered to return, as no longer required. Regarding this as an
act of unusual conscientiousness, Alfonso desired him to retain the money
on account of future services; whereupon the Count, after sending home his
company from the Tuscan war, attended the Duke of Calabria to Naples, to
offer acknowledgments in person. To his suggestion, while there, has been
ascribed by Muzio and Baldi a double matrimonial alliance, now proposed
between the hitherto hostile houses of Aragon and Sforza, as a means of
cementing the new league, but of which only that of Hippolita Maria Sforza
took effect. On the same authority we must attribute to him a selfish and ill-
timed counsel, which marred that measure and perilled the peace of Italy.
Whilst a party to the losing game which Sforza played in La Marca during
1445-6, several of his townships were seized by the Lord of Rimini, in
whose possession they had since remained. With the ultimate hope of
reclaiming these on some fitting opportunity, he is alleged to have reminded
Alfonso of the scurvy trick played upon him in 1448 by Sigismondo, in
passing over to the service of Florence after receiving his pay, and to have
suggested such treachery as sufficient ground for specially excluding the
latter from the league, and for reserving a right to make reprisals. The King
adopted this hint the more readily, that he had other wrongs to settle with
the Genoese and with Astorre Manfredi, seigneur of Imola; he accordingly,
on ratifying the treaty of Lodi in January, 1455, introduced an exceptional
clause against these three states, the effect of which was not only to keep up

petty warfare in Romagna and Liguria, but eventually to entail upon his son
a disputed succession which well-nigh cost him his crown.
It was the destiny of Urbino long to endure the full weight of Malatesta's
troublesome qualities; to be in turn agitated by his intrigues, compromised
by his instability, deluded by his duplicity, harassed anew by his inroads,
and again cajoled by his hollow repentance. The Count, whose sense of
honour was delicately susceptible, and who felt warmly for his people's
welfare, could no longer brook such aggressions. Bent upon signally
punishing them, he, however, before concerting measures with Alfonso,
judged it prudent to visit Florence, Bologna, Milan, and Mantua, in order to
justify to their governments the necessity of making an example of his
inveterate foe. Nothing could exceed the honourable reception accorded
him at these places; but he did not obtain anything beyond general
assurances or cold civilities in regard to the matter he had in view. The
proffered mediation of Borso d'Este, Duke of Modena and Marquis of
Ferrara, held out one last hope of an arrangement; so he paid him a visit on
his return homewards, in May, 1457, and found that Malatesta was already
his guest. The interview of these rivals is described by Sanzi and Baldi with
details probably more dramatic than historical. The Lord of Rimini came
reluctantly, with arms at his side and implacable passions in his breast; he
commenced the discussion with a long catalogue of grievances, and quickly
wrought himself up to violent and insulting language, which Federigo met
by mild but firm remonstrance, ending with a proposal to settle by single
combat, "hand to hand, in field, or plain, or valley," whatever
misunderstandings could not be amicably disposed of by their host.
Sigismondo, for answer, drew his sword, and after the parties had
exchanged ferocious defiance, the Duke separated them, grieved at the total
failure of his intervention. Before leaving Ferrara, the Count offered to
submit to his arbitration their differences, the chief of which was as to
restoration of the places in Montefeltro retained by Malatesta; but the latter
declined any reference of the sort.
After provocations so aggravated, and in the certainty that opportunity
alone was wanting to renew them in manner more perilous to his interests,
Federigo no longer hesitated to act upon the reservations of the treaty of
Lodi, and in June hastened to Naples, in order to obtain assistance. It
happened that Giacopo, son of Nicolò Piccinino, was then in the Abruzzi

with his company of adventure, retained by Alfonso, but waiting the
chances of war. The Count, therefore, applied for permission to employ him
against Malatesta, who, like a true braggart, lost courage on finding himself
exposed to just vengeance, and virtually excluded from assistance by the
terms of the league. Recurring as usual to intrigue, he sent his eldest son
Roberto to Naples, that he might gain favour with the beautiful Lucrezia
Allagno, or del Lagno, who, though said to have equalled her Roman
namesake in propriety, held the elderly monarch by the silken chain of
youthful passion. Her dragon-like virtue did not exempt her from womanly
weakness, and in exchange for the most brilliant ruby which the jewellers of
Venice could supply, backed by an offer of his hand for her niece, Roberto
gained her influence in his father's behalf. Months were lost in the
counteracting this back-stairs interposition; and meanwhile Federigo was
widowed by the death of Gentile, of whom nothing is known beyond the
excessive stoutness of her person. These delays enabled him to prepare the
munitions of war, and he addressed to the magistrates of Siena this request
for a person qualified to cast mortars:—
"Mighty and potent Lords, and Fathers honourable and
beloved:
"I have immediate want of a master mortar-founder, and
being informed that there is in Siena one such, able and
sufficiently qualified, who would well satisfy me, and whom
I knew when detained there ill [in 1453], I urgently pray
your lordships, as a particular favour, to give him leave of
absence. And my need of him being urgent, I trust that he
will come quickly along with the bearer hereof, and I shall
so pay him his dues that he shall be well satisfied. I have
reason to hope that your lordships will oblige me as to this
artist, for in all that tends to the weal of your republic I
would be most affectionate, and observant beyond any other
ally you have in the world. As for the mortars, I want to use
them against the Lord Sigismondo, the enemy of your
lordships, to whom I commend myself. From Urbino, the
7th of November 1457."[93]

It was in this month of November that the Count and Piccinino at length
took the field, although the season already warned them to winter-quarters
in the inclement climate of the Apennines. After reducing several places
near Fossombrone, Federigo, in order to save his own people, seized some
townships of Carpegna, a tiny fief held by a branch of his family with
whom he was at variance, and there left the troublesome troops of Giacopo
until the spring. When it opened, notwithstanding the dilatory and heartless
tactics of their leader, who, like a true condottiere, regarded decisive
movements as fatal to his trade, this "war of petty sieges by petty armies,"
as it is aptly called by Sismondi, soon exhausted and humbled the refractory
Sigismondo, whose unhappy condition is thus pitiably described in another
interesting despatch to the Sienese authorities.

"Mighty and potent Lords, dearest Fathers:
"I have not cared to write sooner to your lordships, nothing
further having been decided by the serene King regarding
peace or war with the Lord Sigismondo; but I have at length
determined to write this, in order that your lordships may not
marvel at my silence, and that you may be informed how
matters stand. And I hereby advise you how the Lord
Sigismondo has sent many humble and respectful messages,
through his son, to the serene King, supplicating that his
Majesty would condescend to have mercy, and
notwithstanding misconduct so gross as to merit no favour
nor compassion, that his Majesty would take to himself his
sons as his Majesty's slaves, and would deign to decide that
they should not go begging their bread. And the son
besought his Majesty to permit that his father should come
and throw himself at his feet, with a halter round his neck,
publicly to crave mercy, bringing with him as much money
as possible, and the jewels formerly offered; and should this
not suffice, that his Majesty might take whatever else of his
he would, until satisfied. His Serene Majesty replied that the
youth should remain at Naples whilst he went to Magione,
and that he would cause an answer to be sent through his
council. Thus passed many days without further incident.
And although the ambassador of the Duke of Modena
strongly interceded, no further reply was obtained, nor any
other resolution come to, things remaining in suspense. And
I am informed that the serene King is decided to exact the
sum demanded, of 27,000 ducats of the highest value, and
70,000 for expenses; besides insisting on restitution of my
territory, without restoring his own conquests. But the Lord
Sigismondo's people declare it impossible for him to give
such a sum in cash, though he might pay 20,000 down, with
the jewels, and as far as 60,000 by instalments, so that I do
not see how the matter can well be arranged. I, however,
hourly look for further advices, and your lordships will be
informed of what I hear, for things cannot now remain much

longer in suspense, Gottefredo being gone to Naples with
the Lord Sigismondo's ultimatum. From Urbino, 2nd of
May, 1458.
"Federigo Count of Montefeltro, Urbino, and Durante,
Captain-general of the Serene King of Aragon."[94]
These sanguine anticipations were, however, premature, as fortune had still
some trials in store for Federigo. Alfonso's death took place on the 1st of
July, that of Pope Calixtus III. a few weeks later; both events materially
affected the struggle which he had thus regarded as at an end. Indeed, the
whole state of parties in that strife curiously illustrates the chances and
changes on which depended success in the intestine broils of Italian
feudatories and captains of adventure. The great ambition of the latter was
to attain the sovereignty of some petty state, and Piccinino conceived
himself, as representative of the Braccian influence, well entitled to watch
an opportunity of turning it to such account. His calculation probably was
that he might be able to possess himself of one at least of the seigneuries
which Malatesta's ruin would vacate; but as the contest went on, that wily
intriguer appears to have suggested to him Urbino as a richer guerdon,
attainable by gradually wasting Federigo's resources, and finally at a fitting
moment turning round to crush him.
The Duke of Milan's sympathies were naturally with the Count, who had
stood by him single-handed in adversity, and in his cause had incurred those
losses he was now endeavouring to recover, whilst the Lord of Rimini had
betrayed him again and again, and with his own hands had strangled his
natural daughter, the third wife murdered by this Bluebeard of real life.[*95]
Yet such was Sforza's detestation of Giacopo as head of the old Braccian
faction, and fear lest his ambition of sovereignty should be gratified, that he
actually advanced money to support Sigismondo, who also obtained similar
assistance from the Duke of Modena, jealous perhaps of the growing
Montefeltrian influence. The Pontiff's death opened a new hope to
Piccinino, and on the speculation of possibly making good a footing in
Perugia, he profited by this vacancy of the Holy See to seize upon Assisi,
Nocera, and Gualdo. Thus, within three months after his letter to Siena,
Federigo found himself deprived of his only ally Alfonso, deserted by his
confederate Piccinino, and left to maintain the contest single-handed against

an adversary suddenly enabled to rally under his standard some of the
boldest adventurers of Romagna.
But the reaction in his favour was not long postponed. Ferdinand continued
his commission as captain-general, with a pension of 6000 ducats assigned
to him by Alfonso three years before; and fully aware of the importance of
conciliating papal sanction to his own questionable sovereignty,
commanded Giacopo to quit the ecclesiastical territory and return to the
banner of Montefeltro. A miserable contest of sacked villages and barbarous
reprisals was continued during autumn and winter, and though the
advantage preponderated on the Count's side, these successes were at his
people's cost.
Meanwhile the repose of Italy was exposed to more serious interruption.
Alfonso V. of Aragon and Sicily had maintained his very doubtful title to
the crown of Naples[96] by a happy union of energy and judgment. Devoting
his life to Italy, he first established his reputation by a series of victories
over his Angevine competitor, and then cemented his popularity by an easy
and accessible address, by lavish profusion of treasure and honours, by a
zealous pursuit and patronage of learning. The epithet of Magnanimous,
which graces his name, was merited by his testamentary disposition as well
as by his character. Having no legitimate issue, he left to his brother John
his hereditary dominions in Spain and the islands, but conceived himself at
liberty to bestow the crown of Naples, received at first as a gift and retained
by the sword, upon his natural son Ferdinand, whose substitution to it had
been sanctioned by two popes, recognised in various treaties, and formally
voted by a native parliament. His chief confidant and agent in these
arrangements had been his countryman Cardinal Alfonso Borgia, who at his
death filled the papal throne with the title of Calixtus III., and who,
anticipating that bad faith and unscrupulous nepotism which, under
Alexander VI., consigned to enduring infamy their subsequently canonised
name, used his authority to supplant Ferdinand by his own nephew Pierluigi
Borgia. With this view he, as suzerain of Naples, declared its sovereignty
lapsed on the King's death without a legitimate son, and although he
published a notice calling upon all claimants to appear for their interests, his
real object was divulged by an offer to Francesco Sforza of his father's fiefs
in the Abruzzi and Apulia, on condition of his enabling him to place the
crown on Pierluigi's head. These intrigues were, however, frustrated by this

Pope's death on the 8th of August; and his successor Pius II., a man in all
respects his opposite, hastened to recognise Ferdinand, maintenance of
peace in the Peninsula being the first requisite towards his grand project of
a crusade against the Turks.
Full of this scheme, he summoned a congress of European powers at
Mantua, which proved one of the most interesting assemblages recorded in
mediæval history, and offered to Christendom the rare spectacle of a pontiff
engaged in reconciling his universal flock. From the British Isles no
adequate response answered his summons, "England being hopelessly
convulsed by civil broils, and Scotland hidden in the ocean depths." His
self-imposed task including the arrangement of all disputes, those of the
rival Lords of Urbino and Rimini attracted early notice. Sigismondo
attended at Mantua in person to plead his cause: that of Federigo, who
reluctantly consented to transact with one whom he well knew no award, no
promise, could bind, was conducted by an envoy. The treachery of the
former being made manifest, he was condemned by the Pope to a pecuniary
mulct, and, failing payment, to the surrender of some fastnesses in security.
Thereupon new difficulties arose, Malatesta avowing himself as yet
unconquered, and ready to brave extremities rather than accept the
proffered terms. His swaggering was thus checked by Pius:—"Hold your
peace; our care is not for you, but for your house: our pity belongs to your
subjects, not yourself, whose manner of life merits no commiseration.
However you may defend it by a multitude of words, your whole life tells
against you, and your sole plea is upon the deeds of an ancestry deserving
well of the Romish Church. Hence is it that we seek to pacify your foes;
and if you now resile from what is fair and equitable, we shall leave you in
the slough wherein we found you: nor would it surprise us were the divine
mercy to permit the poor to be afflicted for a season, that you may finally
expiate your guilt by a bloody end, or by a wretched and impoverished
exile." Daunted by these words, Sigismondo succumbed to terms
approaching the award; but the other party, elated by success, would make
no concession, though the Pontiff, indignant at such clinging to victory
rather than conciliation, strove to settle the points still at issue.[*97] It was in
this state of matters that he indited the following brief.
"To Federigo, Count of Montefeltro, &c.

"Beloved son, we salute you. It is our urgent desire, in
accordance with the charge committed to us, that harmony
should be restored between the dissentient faithful; and to
this we are the more urgently bound, when
misunderstandings arise between our own friends and the
subjects of the Holy Roman Church. Seeing, therefore, that
quarrels have for some time past prevailed under our vicars,
between you and our beloved son the noble Messer
Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta of Rimini, occasioning
bloodshed, fire-raising, rapine, and the like calamities, and
that worse evils impend, unless timeously averted, we have
thought fit specially to intimate to you our pleasure that a
friendly adjustment should take place, rather than arbitrarily
to employ our supreme authority to that end. Twice have we
fully discussed this matter at Florence, and now again at
Mantua, and in this good and pious work we have had the
aid of the noble and our beloved son Francesco Sforza Duke
of Milan. We entertained the hope of bringing the affair to a
happy conclusion, and of ensuring you an honourable and
lasting peace, in which your credit and advantage should be
equally regarded; nor shall this hope be fallacious if you will
at all accede to our mediation. But since you demand very
rigid conditions, giving your ambassador no discretion as to
modifying them, and limit us to merely ministerial
interference, it is impossible for us to bring about a
compromise; for rather than thus accept a compulsory
dictation, Sigismondo is ready to try the chances of war, and
expose himself to all impending risks. It is with equal grief
and astonishment that we perceive another great explosion
ready to burst forth. You despise the pacification we offer
you, sure, enduring, advantageous, honourable though it be.
You are victorious, and Sigismondo acknowledges you to be
so; as worsted, he is ready to submit to terms, and if you
consent to our arbitration the matter is settled. Better surely
to accept a certain and favourable proposal than to hazard a
doubtful hope. You are the conqueror; let not your rigour
and obstinacy wrest from you your conquest. Often have we

read and observed how mutable are the events of war, how
rapid and various its reverses, how constantly in the end an
over-confident victor is vanquished. We therefore exhort
your Highness in the Lord to weigh well this matter, and if
you deem an honourable peace advantageous to your affairs,
to leave open for our mediation somewhat of the terms you
have dictated to your envoy, in which case we repeat our
assurance that you will best consult your own reputation and
advantage. Given at Mantua, 21st June, in our first year
[1459]."[98]
The Pontiff's eventual decision was, that their conquests should be mutually
restored, but that La Pergola, Pietrarobbia, and other townships should be
given over to the Count, in compensation of damages; also that Malatesta
should consign Sinigaglia and Mondavio as security for payment to
Ferdinand of 50,000 ducats, in full of his debts to the crown of Naples; this
money, or, failing it, these towns, to be given to Piccinino in lieu of all
demands on account of services to Alfonso and Federigo. The only
difficulty in carrying out these terms appears to have originated with that
selfish adventurer, who, trusting to the terror with which his robber bands
were regarded, and conceiving that he might extort still greater advantages
from a Pontiff intent on promptly settling every divisive element in Italian
politics, made several demonstrations against the ecclesiastical territory.
But the temporising Nicholas had been succeeded by a practical and
energetic statesman, who at once ordered the Count of Urbino to protect the
interests of the Church.[99] In the following spring an interview between the
rivals, in token of their perfect reconciliation, was brought about by the
Duke of Milan. It took place in presence of a numerous and noble
concourse, witnesses to studied displays of affectionate cordiality, which on
one side were neither voluntary nor sincere.

CHAPTER VII
Count Federigo’s domestic life—His second marriage—New war for the
Angevine succession to Naples—Battle of San Fabbiano—Conclusion of
the war—Humiliation of the Malatesta.

T
HOSE readers who have thus far followed our narrative of Count
Federigo's military career may perhaps regret that its somewhat
limited and monotonous interest should not have been varied by
glimpses of his domestic life. A prince whose engagements were
observed with rare fidelity, whose chivalrous honour was happily combined
with practical good sense and unflinching justice, must have been almost
necessarily a good husband and kind master. But, in accordance with the
habits of his age and the calls of his condottiere profession, most of his time
was passed in the field, and unfortunately in those times few bards and
biographers considered any incense worth offering which did not savour of
"The pomp and circumstance of glorious war."
His marriage with Gentile being hopelessly barren, he had followed the
example of his father by obtaining papal briefs of legitimation, in 1454, for
his natural sons Buonconte and Antonio. With the latter we shall make
acquaintance by and by; the former, a youth of remarkable promise, is
supposed to have been his destined heir,[100] but having been sent on a
mission to Alfonso at Naples, in October, 1458, he died there of the plague;
and another brother, Bernardino, who had accompanied him on that journey,
scarcely survived his return. Berni, speaking from personal knowledge of
these two princes, applies to them Virgil's high-flown compliment to
Marcellus:—

"Ah, couldst thou break through Fate's severe decree,
A new Marcellus shall arise in thee!
Full canisters of fragrant lilies bring,
Mixed with the purple roses of the spring;
Let me with funeral flowers his body strew."[101]

P. della Francesca, pinx. L. Ceroni, sculp.
Alinari
FEDERIGO, DUKE OF URBINO, AND BATTISTA, HIS WIFE
From the picture by Piero della Francesca in the Uffizi Gallery

These bereavements probably predisposed their father to a proposal made to
him at Mantua by the Duke of Milan, that he should marry his niece Battista
Sforza, daughter of the Lord of Pesaro, whose descent we have already
explained, and who was now about thirteen years of age.[102] Her mother's
death, when she was but eighteen months old, had occasioned her being
carried at an early age to the court of Milan, where those gifts and
endowments were well cultivated for which her mother and great-
grandmother had been renowned. Nearly of an age with her cousin
Hippolita Maria, one of the paragon princesses of her age, whose marriage
to the heir presumptive of the Neapolitan crown we have noticed, she
shared her laborious education, and amply redeemed her own hereditary
claim to the talents and classical acquirements then in vogue among the

pedantic dames of Italy. With the like showy scholarship and precocious
command of Latin rhetoric to which her female predecessors had been
trained, she was put forward to welcome illustrious visitors at Milan and
Pesaro, in harangues which we are assured were sometimes prepared,
sometimes extempore, but always elegant and appropriate.[103] The same
contemporary authority attributes her engagement with Federigo to the
influence of King Alfonso immediately upon Gentile's death; but the
dispensation is dated the 4th of October, 1459,[104] and in the following
month the betrothal took place at Pesaro, where great satisfaction was
displayed, and a donation of 3000 bolognini, or 75 florins, was voted by the
council to Alessandro, of which he would accept but two-thirds. The
marriage was celebrated at Urbino, on the 10th of February, 1460; and we
turn to Sanzi's Chronicle, in the hope of finding some interesting details
commemorated by an eye-witness. These pomps are, however,
unfortunately curtailed by the poet, anxious to resume the dull recital of
little wars. He describes the bride as

"A maiden
With every grace and virtue rare endowed,
That heaven at intervals on earth vouchsafes,
In earnest of the bliss reserved on high."

Muzio most unaccountably omits all notice of the marriage; we, however,
learn from Betussi that she was tiny in person, but inherited the gifts and
eloquence of her grandmother, Battista di Montefeltro. These she publicly
exercised at Mantua, in an oration addressed to Pius II., and answered in a
compliment dictated either by his gallantry or critical acumen. Bernardo
Tasso has pleasingly embodied the testimony of her contemporaries:—

"The first of them in equal favour holds
Demosthenes and Plato; reading, too,
Plotinus, while, in wisdom as in words,
Arpino's orator she well shall match;
Consort of one unconquered, Frederick,
Urbino's Duke and long-tried champion."[105]

CLARVS INSIGNI VEHITVR TRIVMPHO
QVEM PAREM SVMMIS DVCIBVS
PERHENNIS
FAMA VIRTVTVM CELEBRAT
DECENTER
SCEPTRA TENENTEM
Alinari
ALLEGORY
After the picture by Piero della Francesca in
the Uffizi Gallery, Florence

QVEMODVM REBVS TENVIT
SECVNDIS
CONIVGIS MAGNI DECORATA RERVM
LAVDE GESTARVM VOLITAT PER ORA
CVNCTA VIRORVM
Alinari
ALLEGORY
After the picture by Piero della Francesca in
the Uffizi Gallery, Florence

Yet much learning distracted her not from the practical affairs of life.
During her husband's ever-recurring absences, she administered his state
with singular propriety, besides bringing him many children. On the fourth

day after the ceremony, Federigo left his capital to visit the Pope at Siena,
where he was magnificently entertained, returning home to pass the carnival
with his bride.
New elements of discord were meanwhile fermenting, by which the Turkish
crusade was indefinitely postponed. The popularity gained by the noble
character of Alfonso of Naples, and confirmed by his residence in Italy,
descended not to his successor. Ferdinand was already unfavourably known,
from his sombre and revengeful temper, his falsehood and avarice; yet we
look in vain for provocations or grievances adequate to justify the factious
proceedings of his great barons. Resolved to supplant him, they made
overtures to Jean, King of Navarre, the successor to Alfonso's hereditary
dominions, whose eldest son, Count Viane, had already gathered golden
opinions in Lower Italy. But Jean, more anxious to consolidate his kingdom
than to augment it by outlying appendages, declined interfering, and the
malcontents turned to the Angevine claimant of the Neapolitan crown. René
the Good still reigned in Provence, occupied with his pen and pencil, and
better fitted to be the bard of chivalry than its hero. His son, the titular Duke
of Calabria, had established himself at Genoa in 1458, with almost
sovereign authority, on the invitation of her citizens, who, finding
themselves worsted in a contest, unwisely renewed by Alfonso, after the
peace of Lodi, in order to avenge himself of the obstinately Angevine policy
of that republic, naturally called to their aid his French rival. The Duke's
winning qualities, and the sound judgment which he had manifested in their
service, were well calculated to render him a competitor very formidable to
the unprepossessing Ferdinand. The Genoese, whose hearts he had thus
gained, were ready to back him with a naval armament, reinforced by some
galleys originally fitted out at Marseilles for the Turkish expedition, but
placed by Charles VII. at René's disposal. Florence, a tried partisan of the
Angevine succession, was faithful to her prescriptive policy, and now urged
upon Venice the recent grudge which both republics owed to Alfonso of
Aragon. But it was in vain that the Duke sought support from Francesco
Sforza and the Pope. The former, with comprehensive glance, calculated the
risks of French domination in Italy, and took his stand on the treaty of Lodi,
which, uniting all her powers in one solemn national league, guaranteed the
succession of Naples. He therefore respectfully declined from the Angevine
candidate the same bribe which Celestine had vainly offered him of his

father's holdings in the Abruzzi, and during the Congress at Mantua
confirmed the Pontiff's inclination for the Aragonese dynasty.
In October, 1459, the Duke of Calabria made a descent on the Neapolitan
coast, and his arrival gave the signal for an almost universal rising of the
great barons of the kingdom. At this crisis of his fortunes, Ferdinand
succeeded, through the Duke of Milan's strenuous exertions, in detaching
from the Angevine party Venice and Florence, which assumed a neutral
position. He also summoned Piccinino from schemes of personal
aggrandisement in La Marca, to defend his crown; but that greedy
freebooter, indignant at being called off his quarry, took the usual licence of
condottieri, and opened a correspondence with his master's competitor.
Warned of this by the Count of Urbino, the King and the Duke of Milan
made every effort to retain Giacopo under the banner of Aragon, and we are
assured that the Count, in their interest, went so far as to promise him a
surrender of part of his newly recovered territory, should the adventurer not
make good for himself any other seigneury.[106] But trusting little to that
slippery soldier, they desired Federigo and the Lord of Pesaro to concert
measures for preventing his march into the Abruzzi. Their precautions were,
however, defeated, for Piccinino, who then lay in Romagna, sent his
baggage and camp-followers to be embarked at the nearest ports, and partly
by dexterously misleading them as to his route, chiefly by forced marches
of extraordinary rapidity, in three days scoured the Adriatic coast, and
reached the Tronto without impediment. On the last day he is said to have
done fifty miles, with twenty squadrons of men-at-arms and two thousand
infantry—a feat which cost him many horses, and which he was believed to
have effected by aid of the Lady of Loretto, before whose shrine he found
time to prefer a passing orison. Possibly more important to his success was
the adhesion of Ercole d'Este, and of the Lords of Rimini and Camerino, to
the cause of Anjou, as well as orders privately given by the papal legate to
accelerate the passage of his formidable company through the ecclesiastical
territory.
Although the army of the League, following closely on that of Piccinino,
had crossed the Tronto early in April, it was unable to effect a junction with
Ferdinand, in consequence of the eastern side of the kingdom having risen
against him, and of the passes being all well guarded. In this state of affairs
the King's defeat at Sarno rendered his prospects still more gloomy, and his

only remaining hope seemed to rest on the confederate force in the Abruzzi.
It consisted of a strong contingent from Lombardy, led by Bosio Sforza, and
of a less important brigade of ecclesiastical troops, besides the hardy
mountaineers of Montefeltro and the well-tried company of Alessandro
Sforza, the whole commanded by the Count of Urbino. It was kept in check
by Piccinino's army, superior especially in infantry and cross-bowmen,
although of late considerably weeded of the Braccian veterans, many of
whom had taken service under the Lords of Pesaro and Urbino.
In July these contending armaments were in presence at San Fabbiano, on
the Tordino, the Angevines encamped on the hill-side, the Aragonese in the
plain, separated by a considerable extent of intervening level ground, on
which marauding or exploring parties from each camp daily met. During
one of these skirmishes, a defiance was given by Nardo da Marsciano to
Francesco della Carda to break a lance, which was cheerfully accepted; and
the challenge being repeated by Serafino da Montefalcone, it was taken up
by one Fantaguzzo da S. Arcangelo. Two days were allowed for
preparations, and, when the encounters took place, victory declared for the
Aragonese knights, who, by order of Piccinino, were crowned with laurel,
and escorted back to their camp by a pompous array of martial music.
While aiding to keep the lists, Federigo, in making a dash at a straggler,
spurred his charger, which suddenly bounding, so wrenched his back that he
was rendered incapable of motion, and was lifted from his horse in
exquisite pain. Being put to bed, with the prospect of a tedious cure, a
council of war was held in his tent, when Alessandro Sforza, the next in
command, advocated a general action; but the Count spoke long and
strongly in favour of defensive tactics, and of saving the troops from
continual skirmishes, exhausting to their strength and temper. The latter
opinion was unanimously approved of; but Alessandro having exclaimed,
with some show of mortified feeling, "You, however, have thrice had a
tussle with the enemy," Federigo replied, "Well then, you may do the same,
but with two or three squadrons only, not putting the whole encampment
under arms." Accordingly, two days after,[107] a partial onset was made,
which, as both sides were supported by repeated reinforcements, gradually
brought on a general action. The battle, thus commenced without plan or
object, became a disorderly pell-mell fight, and hence, probably, its results
were far more fatal than the usually bloodless engagements of hired

companies, more anxious about their own safety than the cause which they
supported for the nonce. Little can be gathered from the confused accounts
of the Urbino writers, and that of Simonetta is obviously incomplete. From
the latter it would seem that the Braccians strove to cross a deep ditch in
front of their quarters, whilst Ricotti makes them successful in breaking
through the enemy's line, too much extended under an apprehension of
being outflanked by superior numbers. Again, the biographers of Federigo
tell us that, learning the impending loss of a battle brought on against his
advice, he rose from bed, had himself swathed in bandages, and, though
unable to don his armour, was lifted on horseback, heading a charge of the
reserve, which, although not crowned by victory, averted a certain and
signal defeat. The contest was prolonged when night had closed in, and,
after seven hours of severe fighting, the combatants withdrew to their
respective quarters. Baldi, who dwells very fully on the Count's gallantry,
quoting contemporary manuscripts, mentions that two horses were killed
under him: but his courage was shown in triumphing over the agony of his
malady even more than by exposing himself in the brunt of a battle which
had become almost desperate. His conduct in both respects was done justice
to by his followers, and much of his military reputation dated from the
disastrous fight of San Fabbiano. It is to be regretted that no return of its
casualties has reached us, as it would have been curious to know the losses
of the most bloody action of this age. Berni merely says that 400 horses and
many men were slain. As to its immediate consequences, our authorities are
again at issue. Simonetta, the historian of the Sforzas, and, consequently, a
partisan of the League, admits that, though apparently a drawn battle, the
disadvantage was greatly on the allies' side; that a portion of their troops
fled from the field, and never drew bridle until they had crossed the Tronto,
followed by the rest, during the stillness of the subsequent night. Sismondi
also claims a victory for the Angevines, with the loss to their opponents of
all their baggage and most of their horses. On the other hand, Baldi quotes
two contemporary authorities, one of them a spectator, to prove that
Federigo's army sacrificed scarcely more than four hundred horses, and that
he did not break up his cantonments for at least ten days later, and even then
only in consequence of progressive disaffection in the Abruzzi. He admits,
however, that the confederate army exhibited a most pusillanimous spirit,
and, but for their captain-general's exertions and authority, would have
actually done what Simonetta lays to their charge, instead of eventually

retiring beyond the Tronto rapidly, but in good order, with baggage and
wounded, their retreat covered by a succession of ambuscades, which
checked and severely punished the columns of Piccinino, while in
disorderly pursuit.
The tournament which preluded this mortal strife proves that a spirit of
chivalry still animated the Italian condottieri,[*108] who, in the words of
Dante,

"Hired to a hireling, still with hirelings fights,
Ne'er asks the cause of quarrel nor its rights."

An anecdote of Federigo which occurred a few days later illustrates the
same feeling. Piccinino, informed by spies of the panic prevailing among
the allies, sought by all means to aggravate it, in order to rid himself of
them without further bloodshed. He, therefore, on various pretexts, sent into
their camp bearers of bad news, and exaggerated rumours from the south.
One of these emissaries, being taken before the Count and asked what
tidings, represented himself as commissioned by Giacopo to request that
their plate and valuables might not be sent away, as he wished to have them
for his own special use. Federigo, though blessed with uncommon
command of temper, was irritated by this boastful and ill-timed insult, and,
starting to his feet, exclaimed, "Reply to Piccinino, or whoever else sent
you on this mission, that he who would win my property will have enough
to do, and must first stake his own." Then, looking towards the sun, he
added, "It is now late, but to-morrow I shall inquire by what means he is to
get them." In the morning he accordingly sent his secretary, Paltroni, to
inform the General that, having received such a message in his name, he
desired to know how he proposed to gain these things, by pitched battle or
single combat; that he was welcome to choose what way he pleased, as they
would be well defended against one or many. But Giacopo repudiated the
bravado imputed to him, and sent back the envoy with many compliments,
so that this intended discouragement was, by the Count's tact, converted
into a sort of triumph, at the expense rather than to the advantage of his
designing adversary.
Ferdinand having lost every place of importance but his capital, the cause of
Aragon was now most critically situated; and had the Duke of Calabria

moved directly upon Naples, there can be little doubt that the French
dynasty would have been seated, and probably established, upon the throne
of one of the Sicilies. But he let slip the favourable moment, influenced it is
said by Orsini, Prince of Tarento. Such was the predominance enjoyed by
this overgrown feudatory, that Alfonso had conceived a marriage with his
niece Isabella sufficient to secure the crown to Ferdinand; yet was he the
first to disturb the succession, and his whole power had been directed
against her husband. It is said that love or duty, ambition or pique, working
on woman's wit, induced her to hazard an appeal to her uncle's mercy, and
that, disguised as a Franciscan monk, she made her way to his tent, where
her expostulations moved the stern baron to give breathing time to
Ferdinand, by diverting the Angevine arms from the capital to less
important places. Simonetta, omitting this little romance of history, ascribes
Orsini's policy to the selfish motive of prolonging a civil war which
augmented his individual importance. Under this pressing necessity all
thoughts of the Turkish crusade were abandoned; and even Pius postponed
to a more fitting season, what he regarded as the cause of Christendom, in
favour of one which Sforza had satisfied him was that of Italy. Both these
sovereigns promptly advanced subsidies, and a small contingent of troops
from Lombardy arrived in the confederate camp. The Count of Urbino's
service as captain-general expired in September, when he would gladly
have quitted a cause forsaken apparently by fortune, in order to protect
home interests, always in peril from his neighbour of Rimini. But he was
persuaded to accept a renewed engagement from the Pontiff, who in the
autumn was recalled from Siena by the exigency of his capital.
Piccinino, consulting as much the advantage of his own company as that of
the house of Anjou, made a descent upon the Sabine territory, and scoured
the rich Campagna, until the Romans, tracing from their walls his path of
fire, trembled for their insecure city. The army of the League was
summoned in all haste for its defence, but their march was delayed by
divided councils and private aims, the leaders being averse to leaving
exposed their interests in Romagna; and had Giacopo ventured to attack the
Eternal City, instead of intriguing with a few of her discontented
inhabitants, he might have anticipated those scenes of plunder and outrage
inflicted on her in the following century by the lawless host of the
Constable Bourbon. But it was reserved for a French renegade, leading a

horde of ultra-montane banditti, to strike a blow, from which the Italian
condottiere may have recoiled as sacrilegious. Fortunately, Federigo was
thus spared the disgrace which tarnishes his grandson Duke Francesco
Maria I., of sacrificing the metropolis of Christendom to dilatory
movements and selfish ends. After losing three months inactively on the
Adriatic, the confederates advanced into the Sabine country, and recovered
several places lately seized by the Angevines. November having arrived,
both armies went into winter quarters; the Count of Urbino at Magliano,
near Narni, where he learned that his departure from La Marca had
encouraged Malatesta to seize upon Mondavio, which under the late
arrangement had become his, Sinigaglia being re-annexed to the Church.
Federigo and Alessandro Sforza repaired to Rome for the Christmas
ceremonies, when there occurred a singular proceeding, commemorated by
Pius in his Commentaries. An advocate of the papal courts brought before a
full consistory the malpractices of Sigismondo Malatesta in a formal
pleading, accusing him of rapine, wilful fire-raising, slaughter, rape,
adultery, incest, parricide, sacrilege, treason, lese-majesty, and heresy, and
praying his Holiness to listen to the suppliant voices of those who could no
longer endure the tyrant's cruel yoke, and to avenge them by at length
freeing Italy from a foul and abominable monster, in whose cities no good
man's life was safe. None having replied to this oration, the Count of
Urbino and his neighbour of Pesaro resumed the charges, alleging that
many of the culprit's worst enormities had been passed over; that his
treacheries equalled the number of his transactions, that none ever trusted
him without being betrayed, that he scoffed not at one or another point of
faith, but at the whole evangelical system, in utter ignorance of religion.
The Pontiff then, in a long speech, took credit for leniency, in not
summarily consigning the offender to eternal perdition, and remitted the
cause to the Cardinal of S. Pietro-ad-vincula. The report by his Eminence
pronounced him guilty of all these crimes, and of disbelief in the
resurrection or the soul's immortality; whereupon sentence went forth,
depriving him of his state and dignities, and condemning him to the
punishment of heresy. On a vast pile of combustibles raised before the steps
of St. Peter's, was placed an effigy of Sigismondo from the mouth of which
issued a scroll inscribed, "Here am I, Sigismondo Malatesta, son of
Pandolfo, king of traitors, foe of God and man, condemned to the flames by

a sentence of the sacred college." Fire being applied, the figure was
consumed amid the curses of thousands, and in Easter week of 1461, formal
excommunication went out against the brothers Malatesta.[109]

Alinari
SIGISMONDO MALATESTA
Detail from the fresco by Piero della
Francesca in the Tempio Malatestiano in
Rimini

When spring permitted new operations, the League, by a series of petty
successes, restored the papal authority in the revolted townships, and

punished Savelli, one of the great Campagna chiefs who had sided with the
Angevine pretender. Then crossing the frontier into the Abruzzi, Alessandro
Sforza encompassed Sulmona, whilst Federigo, by a most difficult march
among the Apennine sierras, made a successful foray upon the enemy's
unprotected country. From thence he suddenly returned, on hearing that
Pius contemplated retiring from Rome to Tivoli during the dog-day heats,
and warmly remonstrated with his Holiness on risking his person among a
proverbially treacherous population, by whom Piccinino had been recently
welcomed. To these entreaties, seconded by the cardinals, the Pope replied
that a residence among them was the surest means of recovering the
affections of these citizens, and confirming their attachment to the Holy
See. Thither accordingly he was escorted by the Count of Urbino with ten
troops of horse; and the Pontiff dwells in glowing terms on their splendid
horses, arms, and accoutrements, their shields glittering in the morning sun,
their crests and morions dazzling beholders, each troop a forest of spears.
"As they rode along the Campagna, Federigo, whose reading was extensive,
inquired of his Holiness whether the generals of antiquity were armed like
those of our day? Pius replied that all the weapons in actual use, as well as
many now obsolete, may be found in Homer and Virgil, for though poets
sometimes invent, yet they generally describe pretty correctly what has at
some period existed. The conversation turning upon the Trojan war, which
the Count endeavoured to depreciate, the Pontiff demonstrated its
importance, and that its great reputation was not unfounded. Such pleasant
and spirited discourse upon ancient history was prolonged between them to
the Lucano Bridge, where the guard was dismissed; but, thereafter, his
Holiness availed himself of a leisure moment at Tivoli to detail from
Ptolemy, Strabo, Pliny, Quintus Curtius, Julius Solinus, Pomponius Mela,
and other old authors, many appropriate particulars regarding Asia Minor
and its limits, which had by chance been mentioned."
This interesting episode concluded, Federigo rejoined his army, and after
accumulating vast booty from the villages, and carrying several fastnesses,
dictated terms to the important city of Aquila. Thus passed the summer, and
in October he was instructed to bring to obedience the Duke of Sora, who
had thrown off allegiance to Ferdinand. Before attacking the town of that
name he found it necessary to reduce the mountain fortress of Castelluccio,
near the Garigliano; but its tiny garrison, availing themselves of a strong

position, held out against the defective artillery of that day until a large
force had assembled for its relief. These, however, met from him so warm a
reception that they were glad to retire, and leave not only the place but all
the duchy of Sora at his mercy. This service was most grateful to Pius, who
gladly saw an enemy on his very frontier brought to terms. In the next
consistory he remarked that "this captain of ours with his single eye sees
everything," and addressed to him the following complimentary brief,
which Muzio has preserved. "To our well-beloved son, health and apostolic
benediction: We have been duly informed of the courage wherewith you
have met the enemy, and in how short a time you have carried the
stronghold you were beleaguering. These marvellous exploits content us
much, and are worthy of your wonted prowess and magnanimity. Dear to us
is your person, and we would cherish your worth and valour. Proceed as
you have commenced, and daily add to your good offices in behalf of
ourselves and of his Majesty: let it be your endeavour by every exertion to
augment your reputation, and you shall always be the son of our
benediction. From Rome, at St. Peter's, under the fisher's ring, this 1st of
October, 1461, in the eighth year of our pontificate."
During the dead season Federigo visited the Pope and Ferdinand, to concert
measures for the ensuing campaign, and on its opening was again obliged to
proceed against the Duke of Sora, who had evaded a submission extorted
from him in the autumn. It was not, however, by such petty achievements
that the Neapolitan succession was to be settled. Nominally a republic,
Genoa was really an oligarchy, the sport of rival factions; but there had long
been a leaning to the Angevine alliance, and no support could have been
more useful to that house in its pretensions upon Naples. Without command
of the sea, such pretensions were absolutely vain, and that commercial
community, situated between Provence and Lower Italy, not only secured to
these a mutual intercourse, but formed a most available entrepôt for
reinforcements and military stores. The French, originally received within
its walls as allies, had become virtually masters of the maritime state; but in
the spring of 1461 a popular revolution, occasioned by financial burdens
consequent upon the Neapolitan war, and promoted by the Duke of Milan,
overthrew the Angevine party, and obliged the French to seek shelter in the
fortress. An army chosen from the chivalry of Languedoc and France was
embarked at Marseilles to succour the Duke of Calabria, but his father

directed the fleet conveying it to stand into the bay of Genoa, in hopes of
easily re-establishing there the Angevine interests. He was, however,
repulsed thence in July by a defeat so bloody and complete that his army
was annihilated and his influence entirely overthrown. The cause of René,
hitherto almost uniformly successful, never recovered this check, by which
he lost at once a highly important reinforcement and a most serviceable ally.
Other discouragements followed in rapid succession: the death of Charles
VII. deprived him of a powerful coadjutor, the unlooked for convalescence
of Francesco Sforza restored energy to his most active adversary, and a
sudden descent upon Apulia by George Scanderbeg, the hero of Greece,
with a seasonable reinforcement of Castriot horse, cheered Ferdinand's
drooping spirits, and enabled him during the campaign of 1462 to recover
his lost advantages.
Sigismondo Malatesta having recovered most of his territories in the
previous year, Piccinino conceived the opportunity favourable for
employing in the French interests his soldiery, no longer required for his
own ends. He therefore dispatched an emissary with sufficient funds to
retain some minor condottieri of Lombardy and Romagna, and to persuade
Malatesta to march at their head into the Abruzzi. By this effort a force was
raised which gave extreme uneasiness to the Pope for the safety of La
Marca, and from which great expectations were raised by the Angevines, in
the belief that it would promptly advance southward. There was thus little
difficulty in allowing Federigo to hasten from the seat of war in order to
meet this new danger; and although he hurried onwards with extraordinary
rapidity, he reached Sinigaglia an hour after it had been treacherously
surrendered to its former master, the Lord of Rimini. Sigismondo, alarmed
at this unexpected descent, made overtures to his old rival in an altered
tone, interlarding general professions of regard with many wily suggestions
that their common interests would be far safer with Sinigaglia in his hands
than in those of the Church. Without entering upon this view of the matter,
Federigo replied that, being in the field not as Count of Urbino but as
captain of his Holiness, such private considerations must be postponed to a
more fitting moment.
The rising sun was gilding the slumbering Adriatic on the 12th of August,
when the Count appeared before Sinigaglia, after a forced march from the
Chiento, thirty long miles distant, effected within as many hours.[110]

During that day his army passed the Nevola, and sat down within a bow-
shot of the enemy's camp. Had Malatesta at once charged these toil-worn
troops, his victory might have been complete; had he occupied the city, or
kept possession of his own well-fortified entrenchments, he might have
waited another opportunity for striking a decisive blow. But from folly or
cowardice irreconcilable with the fair reputation he held among
contemporary free captains, he adopted the extraordinary resolution of a
retreat upon Fano, and shortly before midnight silently quitted his camp.
Federigo was, however, on the alert, and throwing himself on horseback,
sped on with a few mounted squadrons, whilst he ordered all his troops to
follow with their utmost diligence. As he hurried forward, some of his staff,
unaware of the precautions taken against surprise, remonstrated at the risk
of thus rushing into danger; but he cheered them on, saying it was in like
manner, and the same hour, and through this very country, that Claudius
Nero had advanced after Asdrubal, when he beat and utterly overthrew him.
Thus pressing onward he overtook the enemy at the streamlet of the
Cesano, and with trumpet and shouts raised the cry to battle. Sigismondo,
deeming it impossible for the army to follow after its severe exertions of the
preceding night, conceived his pursuers to be but a handful of skirmishers
whom it were well at once to dispose of. He therefore formed his rear-guard
to receive their attack, thus giving the main body of his adversaries time to
arrive. A full moon enabled the Count to perceive his advantage, without
exposing his weakness; and, waiting until he was sufficiently supported, he
charged with an impetuosity which cleared the rivulet, and so thoroughly
routed the enemy that even their van felt the shock and took to flight.
Before dawn Malatesta's army, although said to have outnumbered
Federigo's as five to two, was scattered to the winds, whilst he escaped into
Fano, and his eldest son to Mondolfo. The victor, after a day to recruit his
men, withdrew into his own state, having no artillery wherewith to reduce
Sinigaglia.
Sigismondo, ever prepared to cloak defeat by hypocrisy, sent a confidential
envoy to the Count, charged with the same arguments and professions he
had a few days before proposed to him, and commissioned to offer the hand
of his eldest son Roberto for one of Federigo's infant daughters, in
guarantee of their perfect reconciliation. For reply, the latter taunted him
with his ever-broken faith, and rejected propositions which it would be

dishonourable in him to entertain, as an officer of the Pope, whose service
he infinitely preferred to amity or relationship with Malatesta. This
negotiation being reported to his Holiness by the legate, was approved in
the following papal brief addressed to Federigo.
"If it be as reported to us, that accomplished master of treason and wicked
plotter of profanity, Sigismondo Malatesta, a true son of perdition, has
attempted in many and various ways to undermine your still incorruptible
faith; and this, as we have heard, and as you have in part informed us, since
he was worsted and overthrown near Sinigaglia, nay, driven to a disgraceful
flight, by your superior might and the bravery of your soldiers: and he has
at the same time added that, if we reduce him to do our kitchen service and
to set our meat in order, you too will end by becoming our muleteer;
promising you, however, an alliance with his family, provided you will
either reinstate him in our favour, or abstain from annoying him: but we are
aware how wisely you replied to his folly, and how your good sense
brought him to confusion. It is superfluous for us to advise you as to the
most prudent course; we would but encourage you heartily to persevere and
keep at him, letting slip no opportunity of oppressing and humbling the
enemy, and that you do your utmost speedily to terminate this war, and to
liberate us and yourself from a most rascally foe, with whom no terms of
peace can ever be relied on. And do not imagine, however much our ally the
King of France may desire a truce in the kingdom of Hither Sicily,
including in it Sigismondo as his adherent, that we shall suffer any to
interfere as arbiter or judge between us and our subjects, except the Holy
See which we represent. Proceed then, conquer, destroy, and consume this
accursed Sigismondo, and in him neutralise the poison of Italy. Which if
you do, as we hope, you will be most dear not only to us, but to all our
successors in time to come, and we shall acknowledge your deserts by such
recompense as shall by all be considered adequate. It is not nobility that we
hate, as is falsely asserted by him, but profligate and faithless nobles like
himself, who has not hesitated to betray his mother and sovereign the
Roman Church, and we shall not neglect to chastise him as God may give
us opportunity. You, and all such as imitate your ways, we love right
heartily, and shall honour and exalt to the utmost of our power while life
endures, knowing well that authority is best maintained by punishments and
rewards, and that in the opinion of all the world, Sigismondo has earned the

former and you the latter. From Petriuolo with our own hand, this 6th of
October, 1462."[111]
In implement of these promises, the Count, on the 3rd of November,
received a commission as lieutenant-general of the ecclesiastical forces,
which he had hitherto led as captain-general, and under his authority
pursued with energy the invasion of his enemy's territory. On the 20th of
September he obtained Mondavio, whose inhabitants averted a sack by
paying 3000 ducats. This was followed by a surrender of the whole vicariat
of Sinigaglia and territory of Fano, which he did his best to save from the
miseries of war: but as it was necessary to keep his soldiery in good
humour, he at Barchi allowed all the people to remove; then closing the
gates, and disarming his men, he gave the word for a general assault upon
the abandoned fortress, whose pillage was thus in some degree divested of
the horrors usually attendant on such scenes, which are described by Sanzi
in these feeling terms:—

"Alas, the wailing, the heart-rending woe!
The modest mansions and proud palaces,
The towers and petty castles, all o'erthrown;
Their dwellers madly rushing here and there,
Their women weeping in dishevelled garb,
Imploring mercy for their little ones!
Ah, cruel fates, ah, tendencies accursed!
Such, Malatesta! the embittered fruits
Of thy dissensions and audacious deeds.
Unwearied foe to peace! How numerous
The victims of thy countless crimes, who thus
Their substance see in ashes or despoiled,
Themselves imprisoned and impoverished."

The Count now carried his victorious arms into the country of Rimini, and,
after taking Mondaino, laid siege to Montefiori, which capitulated on the
22nd of October, when Giovanni, a son of Sigismondo, was made prisoner.
Being demanded by the papal legate, it was not without considerable
discussion that a preferable claim to his ransom was established for the
lieutenant-general, who proved that the war was on his part one neither of
selfishness nor vengeance, by freely restoring his liberty and personal

effects, and escorting him in person from the camp with many kind and
consolatory expressions. It is curious to contrast this chivalrous conduct
with the unworthy trick by which Federigo dexterously, and apparently
without any stain upon his good name, gained the citadel of Verucchio after
the town had surrendered. He caused a letter, forged in the name of
Sigismondo, and fastened with an old impression of his seal,[112] to be
transmitted to the castellan, informing him that on a stated night a
reinforcement of twenty men would arrive, whom he should be prepared to
admit. At the indicated hour a detachment stealthily approached the gate,
which was hastily opened to them on an alarm rising in the besieger's camp;
rushing upon the guard, they were quickly supported by their confederates,
and the place was carried ere the garrison were aware that they had
admitted enemies in the guise of friends. The few remaining weeks of open
weather sufficed to reduce all the territory of Rimini, with most of that
around Cesena; and when the snow fell Federigo repaired to Verucchio,
whence he blockaded the city of Rimini during the winter.
The misfortunes thus heaped upon Malatesta were paralleled by those
which befel the Angevine cause. Hastening to obtain succours from
Piccinino, he found him paralysed by an almost equally decisive defeat
received before Troia on the 18th of August. Within a month the Prince of
Tarento gave his adherence to Ferdinand, a clear proof that the star of
Aragon was in the ascendant; and although this example was not adopted
by Giacopo until the following autumn, his intermediate exertions were
directed to securing the means of dictating favourable terms for himself,
rather than to saving the Duke of Calabria from reverses rapidly
accumulating around him. In August, 1463, he made his peace, receiving
Sulmona and many adjoining townships as a sovereign principality, and in
spring the Duke, whose footing had during many months been limited to the
island of Ischia, returned to Provence, finally abandoning his pretensions to
Lower Italy. These evil tidings are said to have found his father René so
absorbed in painting a partridge that the loss of a kingdom neither shook his
hand nor ruffled its plumage.
After his bootless visit to the Angevine camp Sigismondo turned for aid to
Venice, and obtained the Signory's mediation with Pius in his behalf. But
the Pontiff, by a long allocution recorded in his Commentaries, justified to
their ambassador the strong measures required against so incorrigible an

offender, who thereupon directed his energies to providing Fino and Rimini
with means of resistance. In the reopening campaign his opponent's first
measure was to bring Macerata and some other mountain fastnesses to
terms, for which the noise of his guns sufficed. Thence he descended upon
Fano, then held by Roberto Malatesta, and after the manner of the age
preluded his attack by gathering in the harvest that awaited the
townspeople's sickles. This delay allowed the languid ecclesiastical levies
to arrive, and in July the siege was formed. Under a system of improved
warfare few places would be more untenable, its position affording it no
natural advantages, and lying open to assault by sea or land. It was
otherwise in the infancy of artillery and military engineering. Much time
and labour and some lives were expended before the besiegers' pieces could
be brought to bear, or be protected from the heavy stones, weighing each
300 pounds, which were fired upon them from the ramparts. Sigismondo
commanded the sea by means of vessels chartered at Venice, supplying the
place with men, ammunition, and provisions; and although his fleet was
seriously damaged by a flotilla of boats hastily manned by Federigo's
orders, communications were quickly re-established under protection of
some Venetian galleys: after these had been recalled, in consequence of
urgent representations made to the Signory on behalf of the Pope, this
service was performed by two Angevine galleys hired by Malatesta for the
purpose. Neither perseverance nor courage in its proper sense were qualities
of the Italian soldiery, even in their age of military reputation, and the
discouragement resulting from this state of affairs was so aggravated by a
terrific thunder-storm, under cover of which a sally captured their
artillerymen and dismounted their guns, that it was with the utmost
difficulty, and only by urgent representations to Pius himself, the lieutenant-
general could keep his troops together. Aware that success constituted his
best hold upon them, he redoubled his exertions, and in a short time had the
satisfaction not only of remedying these reverses, but of seeing his
operations put on a really satisfactory footing. The prospect of pillage now
carried his army to the opposite extreme; they could not be restrained from
an assault, which they gave with such impetuosity that the terrified citizens
capitulated whilst Roberto with his mother and sisters retired into the castle.
These ladies, remembering the Count's generous conduct to their Giovanni
at Montefiori, and preferring his clemency to the risks of further resistance,
induced Roberto to surrender it on the third day, before a shot had been

fired in its defence. The conditions appear to have been a general assurance
of protection to persons and property; and when the Malatesta family
presented themselves before their conqueror, the ladies in convulsive grief,
he was assailed by persuasions from the legate and most of his officers and
advisers—

"To keep the word of promise to the ear,
And break it to the sense."

They urged upon him that, in dealing with an enemy who had again and
again set good faith at defiance, it was weakness to adhere to a capitulation,
and thus lose the opportunity at length offered by fortune of avenging past
injuries on the son of his foe; at all events that, under provocations so
aggravated, he would be amply justified in observing the terms rather to the
letter than in their spirit, and in exacting an ample ransom for his prisoners,
as Sigismondo would, in the like circumstances, have assuredly done. These
suggestions, though entirely conformable to the morality and honour of the
age, were rejected by Federigo, to whose candid and generous mind they
seemed mere sophistry. He, therefore, not only liberated the Malatesta, but
escorted them to the place of their embarkation for Rimini. Pius has himself
recorded the feelings with which he learned the fall of Fano. Rising from
table, he spread his hands towards heaven, and poured forth thanks to the
Almighty, who thus loaded him with benefits. After which, he said apart,
"There is now nothing to keep me at home; God calls me to his own war,
and lays open the way; there is no reason for further delay." These,
however, were projects destined to remain unfulfilled.
The moral influence of the Count's moderation, as well as of his success,
was proved in the speedy surrender of Mondolfo and Sinigaglia, by which
the whole vicariat finally passed from the Malatesta, and lapsed to the
Church. Fano has ever since been included in the ecclesiastical territory, but
Sinigaglia, conferred by Sixtus IV. on his nephew, Giovanni della Rovere,
son-in-law of Federigo, became the cradle of the second ducal dynasty of
Urbino, and an integral portion of their duchy. In order to reduce what
remained of the Rimini fiefs, the Count presented himself before the
stronghold of Gradara, a mountain village, even now retaining some
interesting memorials of the Malatesta, which quickly followed the example

of Sinigaglia,[113] as did Maiuolo, Penna di Billi, and S. Agata, in
Montefeltro.
Accident now intervened to save Sigismondo from utter destruction. Some
disputes between Venice and the Emperor, originating in commercial
jealousies, exposed Trieste to an attack by the former. It happened that Pius,
having been bishop of that place, interposed in his behalf. The Venetian
Signory had observed with jealousy the progress of the Church along the
Adriatic, which they looked upon as their own lake, and where their
ascendancy was apparently secure, so long as its western sea-board
continued to be partitioned among petty feudatories and communities. Their
plan of indirectly thwarting the siege of Fano having failed, they seized this
opportunity of making the recal of their armament against Trieste
conditional upon an arrangement between his Holiness and Malatesta,
urging that it ill became him to preach Christian union as a preliminary to
the Turkish crusade, whilst he pertinaciously instigated a selfish contest. It
was not easy to evade or answer a plea which appealed to the Pontiff's
ruling passion, especially as apprehensions began to be entertained that
Sigismondo might in desperation sell his services, or even his territory, to
the Infidel. Availing himself of this favourable opening, the culprit sent
envoys from Rimini to Rome, to sue for peace on any terms. Those dictated
by Pius were abundantly stringent to gratify vengeance and disarm
apprehension. In order to expiate his flagrant heresies, commissioners,
formally authorised by him, were to appear in the church of the Santissimi
Apostoli, on a festival, during celebration of mass, and there publicly
confess and recant their master's atheistical tenets. As an atonement for his
treasons and temporal misdeeds, his possessions were forfeited to the
Church, except Rimini and a few miles of the surrounding country, his
conquests from Federigo being at the same time restored. Conditions of
nearly equal severity were imposed on Malatesta of Cesena, and the
remnant of territory allowed to the brothers was continued to them only
during life, under burden of a heavy annual tribute. But for the imperious
Sigismondo there was reserved a deeper humiliation. As the bishop who
was commissioned to raise the interdict approached his capital, he and his
people met him in suppliant guise. Proceeding to the cathedral, the prelate
set forth the sins of the sovereign, and imposed upon the community three
days of fasting and penance, with suspension of Divine ministrations. At the

end of that interval, Sigismondo appeared on his knees before the bishop at
the high altar, to acknowledge his errors, implore their remission, and
pledge his future obedience: whereupon he and his people, who crowded
around in the same abject attitude, were absolved, and received the
benediction.
Thus ended twenty-four years of strife between Sigismondo and Federigo,
which, necessarily occupying our narrative, may have unduly taxed the
patience of our readers. When it began, the Malatesta owned the whole
coast from Cervia and Cesena to the Fiumisino, near Ancona. Had their
conduct equalled their daring ambition, they might, by acquiring the
comparatively unimportant fiefs of Urbino, Durante, and Gubbio, and by
absorbing the petty holdings which adjoined their northern frontier, have
established a powerful state in the fairest and strongest provinces of Central
Italy. But when the struggle closed, it left them but a precarious life-interest
in mere fractions of that ample territory, the rest of which had gone to
enrich the Church, or to aggrandise their especial enemies, the Montefeltri
and the Sforza. The portion now accruing to Federigo, by authority of the
Pope and the consistory, included about fifty townships between the Foglia
and the Marecchia, which had been partly seized from himself and his
predecessors, partly held as debatable land, subject to the strongest, but
which henceforward continued incorporated with Urbino.

CHAPTER VIII
Count Federigo’s home administration and court—Description of his
palace and library at Urbino—His other palaces—The resources of his
state.

T
HE three years and a half which had now passed since the Count's
marriage had been spent by him almost entirely in active service.
During his long absences, the state was in a great measure
administered by Countess Battista, who, notwithstanding her youth,
is said to have held the reins of government with admirable firmness and
good sense, as well as with a leniency and gentleness which conciliated
universal popularity.[114] The remainder of his life had a more peaceful
destiny, for not only was his almost domestic foe Malatesta now reduced to
harmless insignificance, but Italy enjoyed comparative respite from her
normal condition of unceasing strife. We are assured that Federigo turned to
excellent account the opportunities this afforded for attending to the internal
affairs of the duchy, and ameliorating the position of his people. But his
biographers, deeming these objects much less momentous than his military
exploits, have unfortunately left us almost in the dark regarding occupations
and measures so infinitely more important, as distinguishing his views from
those of his age and order. Of the laws which he promulgated, the manner
of enacting and administering them, the organisation and exercise of justice,
the operation and limits of popular rights, the extent and value of municipal
suffrages, the system of taxation and finance, the tendency and usage of
trade, the statistics of the duchy, the internal condition and well-being of the
people, we scarcely obtain a hint from those who prolixly dwell upon
battle-fields, detail sieges, and trace countermarches, few of which offer
variety of tactics or interesting results. Neither are manuscript authorities in
this respect more useful than the published memoirs, for most of those we
have seen are adulatory compositions, occupied only with matter calculated
to enhance our appreciation of their hero as a successful general or patron
of letters, but utterly neglecting the internal policy of his government. The
peculiar quality of his mind unquestionably was that strict observance of
good faith, a total absence of which is the fatal characteristic, the indelible

stain of his age. There is thus every reason to believe that the conditions
imposed upon him at his succession in 1443 would be rigidly fulfilled, and
we have discovered no complaint ever made against him of their non-
observance. They provide, according to the lights then enjoyed, for a
popular election and control of magistrates, reduction of burdens, fiscal
reforms, public education, and medical aid, restrictions on the prerogative
in so far as it sheltered abuses,—and it is obvious that, if carried out in their
true spirit, they must have offered no mean guarantees against such tyranny
as the recent historian of the Ausonian Republics has sweepingly charged
upon all mediæval dynasties.

A. Nini, del. A. Marchetti, sculp.
URBINO
From an original drawing by Agostino Nini of Bologna

The few notices of his government wherewith Baldi has favoured us savour
of those minute and paternal attentions which ensure to a prince great
personal popularity. He tells us that the Count commissioned certain

persons called revisors to perambulate the state, and investigate the
condition of the people. Among the matters specially committed to them
were these: To inquire into the requirements of the religious houses; to
ascertain where maidens of good reputation were unable from poverty to
obtain husbands; to inform themselves secretly as to modest paupers; to
learn what traders or shopkeepers were distressed by large families, debts,
or any particular misadventure. In order to secure efficiency to this
charitable espionage, these officers were privileged to pass at all times into
the sovereign's presence, and it is said that a porter or groom of the
chambers, who had rudely denied one of them access, was summarily
punished by a public whipping. Following up this system, the Count, in his
daily walks or rides, used to call to him the citizens individually,
questioning as to their welfare and circumstances, or encouraging them in
any enterprise or building they had undertaken. "But," continues the Abbot
of Guastalla, "to such details we do not descend, as do some writers,
overscrupulous about trifles; nor shall we tell how, on daily recurring
occasions, he interfered to maintain the poor, to arrest litigation, to secure a
pure administration of justice, to protect the honour of families, and to
recompense his diligent servants. Still less do we collect his witty jests and
pleasant sayings, as these are things far too petty and unbecoming the
gravity of history, besides which, they all or most of them live in the
memory and mouths of the people. But since splendour is a virtue peculiar
to great princes, we shall touch upon some circumstances regarding the
nobleness, the numerical grandeur, and the magnificence of his court."[115]
This passage fairly represents the pervading spirit of Italian biographies and
local histories, though probably containing a latent sneer from Baldi at the
earlier work of Muzio, whose "petty details," with those scantily supplied
by Vespasiano, will be greedily gathered in a future page of this volume.
Little deemed the reverend pedant how independent the historic muse
would become of the stilts on which he, and many of his contemporaries, so
unfortunately elevated her, or how infinitely posterity would have preferred
his despised omissions to his solemn prosings! Nor is this our only
complaint. His illustrations of the Urbino court, thus magniloquently
ushered, consist of a dull catalogue of twelve or fifteen noble names, ending
with an apology for such trespass on his reader's patience, and a reference
to some unpublished manuscript for details. This excuse is offered after

devoting six pages, out of eight hundred, to the home interests and
adminstrations of his hero. In supplement to these unsatisfactory allusions,
we have recourse to such MSS. as detail the establishment which gained for
Federigo's court the high reputation it enjoyed as a model of princely taste
and munificence. Its constitution may be seen at a glance, from this minute
return of its members, by one of their number.[116]

Counts of the duchy, and from other states 45
Knights of the Golden Spur 5
Gentlemen 17
Judges and councillors 2
Ambassadors and secretaries [at Naples, Rome,
Florence, Milan, and Siena] 7
Secretaries of state 5
Clerks in chancery [or public offices] 14
Teachers of grammar, logic, and philosophy
[including Maestro Paolo, astrologer, and Gian
Maria Filelfo] 4
Architects and engineers [Luziano, Francesco di
Giorgio, Pipo the Florentine, Fra Carnevale, and
Sirro of Casteldurante] 5
Readers during meals 5
Transcribers of MSS. for library [besides many
abroad] 4
Chaplains 2
Choristers of the chapel 3
Singing boys 5
Organists 2
Workers in tapestry 5
Dancing-masters for the pages 2
Dancing-masters 2
Apothecary 1
Master of the palace keys 1
Chamberlain 1
Master of the household 1

Treasurer 1
Chamber attendants 5
Pages 22
Carvers and sewers 3
Stewards of the buttery 4
Storekeepers 2
Purveyors 3
Grooms of the chamber 19
Table waiters 19
Footmen 31
Cooks 5
Various menial servants 8
Masters of horse and purveyors of the stable 5
Servants under them 50
Keeper of the bloodhounds 1
Keeper of the camel-leopard 1
Total household of the Duke 317

Captains in constant pay 4
Colonels of infantry 3
Trumpeters 6
Drummers 2
Master-armourers 3

HOUSEHOLD OF COUNTESS BATTISTA AND HER CHILDREN.

Ladies in waiting 7
[After the Duchess's death, Madonna Pantasilea
Baglione, sister of
Brozo Baglione of Perugia, was made governess
to the Princesses.]
A great many female attendants.
Elderly and staid gentlemen 6
Servants of Prince Guidobaldo when a child 7

Total establishment, so far as enumerated 355

In this list may be detected obvious omissions, such as almoner, librarians,
heralds, &c., and it would be much increased by adding servants of the
noblemen entertained at his court. Music appears only in the establishments
of the chapel and of the guard, but in 1473, the Count was visited by
Martino and Giorgio, two German lute-players, to whom he gave letters of
recommendation on their departure for Siena.
The contemporary notice by Vespasiano affords us some standard of the
qualities of this court, which, not less than the martial prowess and
intellectual superiority of its Montefeltrian princes, constituted the glory of
Urbino. "His household was regulated much in the manner of a religious
establishment, and the five hundred mouths which it contained lived with
almost monastic regularity. There were no mess-table manners there, no
gambling nor blasphemous language, and all expressed themselves with the
utmost moderation. The Prince having been entrusted by several personages
of high station with their sons, to be instructed in military service, he, with
good regard also for their good breeding, placed them in charge of a
gentleman from Lombardy of distinguished manners, long resident at his
court [probably Odasio], who exercised over these youths a paternal sway,
gaining their respectful deference, and correcting their little errors, until an
exemplary carriage became habitual to them." Thus, too, Muzio: "Federigo
maintained a suite so numerous and distinguished as to rival any royal
household. For not only did the most distinguished chivalry resort to him as
the first of Italian soldiers, but thither were sent youths of the highest rank,
to be reared under his discipline, as to the most select of schools. And
among the many personages who thus frequented his court were Giovanni
della Rovere, Giulio and Francesco Orsini, Girolamo and Pier Antonio
Colonna, Ranuccio and Angelo Farnese, Andrea Doria, and Gian Giacomo
Trivulzio, with others of equal eminence. Attended by these, and by a
concourse of gentlemen and servants, as well as by a crowd of citizens, he
generally on festivals went to mass in procession, making a round of the
great churches in their turn. And, on his return home, he would keep the
burghers about him for a little in gracious conversation, or calling for his
dispatches, communicated portions before kindly dismissing them."

Alinari
THE FLAGELLATION
After the picture by Piero della Francesco, in the Sacristy of
the Duomo, Urbino.
Supposed portraits of Duke Federigo and Caterino Zeno

One of the manuscripts just cited, which is entitled "Regulations and
Offices for the Court of the most serene Lord Duke of Urbino," after
insisting on a rigid observance of rules to be enforced by the master of the
household, imposes upon that functionary an obligation to inform his lord
privately of the arrival and quality of all strangers, that he might regulate
the degree of hospitality to be extended to them. This was of three grades.
Personages of the highest rank were received and lodged in the palace;
those of less distinction in a separate building, attended on by the Prince's
household; for a third class an inn was provided, where they were lodged at
his cost, and at a fixed rate per head.[117] The liberal hospitalities of the
court are thus mentioned by its chronicler Sanzi:—

"Nor ought we to omit the greetings kind
And gracious, which with princely courtesy

He gave to coming strangers, ne'er before
Welcomed with gentler words, or phrase more cordial,
His aspect cheerful and his carriage plain.
Glorious was he in all things, but unmatched
In hospitality; for never guest
Arrived, such noble treatment hoping for,
Or went his way without a lingering look
Of friendly admiration."

His wide-spreading military renown, and the honourable reception thus
accorded them, attracted visitors from all quarters, until Urbino attained that
reputation as the resort of numerous celebrities which in the next generation
rendered its little court a model to Europe, and which it never entirely lost
while its independence lasted. But this concourse of guests, and the
additional importance conferred upon the principality by considerable
territorial aggrandisements, rendered a new palace necessary. Baldi
mentions it as commenced about this time: Sanzi tells us it was undertaken
to divert Federigo's grief for the death of his Countess in 1472; whilst
Lazzari and the anonymous author of the Memoir regarding the devolution
of the duchy to the Church in 1631 note 1454 as the date of its foundation.
In truth, it was, like many great edifices in Italy, slowly progressive,
spreading over several generations, and finally left unfinished. The same
may be said of several other buildings promoted by the Count during his
intervals of leisure, such as the palaces of Gubbio and Fossombrone, and
the cathedral of Urbino; and it may be convenient in this place to notice
those creations which are prominently set forth among the glories of his
reign.

Of the three roads by which Urbino is approached, that on the south-west,
leading from Tuscany, gives the most favourable view of the city, which is
faithfully rendered on our frontispiece. The central mass of building,
beautifully relieved by a stately spire-capped tower on either side of the
grand entrance, and stretching backwards to the domed cathedral, is the
palace which we are now to describe. The numerous accounts of it, repeated
from one copyist to another in somewhat over-strained panegyric, have

spread its fame throughout Italy, and the folio volume printed in 1724, at
the expense of Cardinal Annibale Albani, was got up with an elaboration
unusual in that age, but with the tasteless dulness which then pervaded
literary and artistic efforts in Italy. The Abbate Pungileone has added little
of importance by his tediously told investigations, and other local
antiquaries have scarcely been more successful.[118]
In absence of further evidence, we may accept the doubtful testimony
already quoted, that the palace was begun in 1454,[*119] but we must briefly
refute the misstatement of Vasari, that its architect was Francesco di
Giorgio. In our twenty-seventh chapter, we shall have occasion to notice
much new matter regarding that artist, which recent inquiries have detected,
and to show the nature and extent of his engineering labours in the service
of the Montefeltrian princes. It appears that the palace at Urbino, usually
ascribed to his design, was commenced by an architect whose name, almost
overlooked by Italian writers, is preserved by Giovanni Sanzi. The motive
imputed by the poet to his master in this great work is as follows:—

"Knowing how admirable and how grand
By every people, every age, are deemed
Time-honoured fabrics, and that active life
No higher aim can follow."

And he goes on to inform us that

"The architect, set over all the rest,
Was Lutian Lauranna, whose bright name
Survives in excellence the knell of death.
His apt and lofty genius ruled the work,
With the Count's sanction, for no prince possessed
A sounder judgment or a will more prompt."

The name of this artist was Luziano, son of Martini of Lovranna and Jadia
in Dalmatia, and we owe to Pungileone an interesting patent in his favour,
granted by Count Federigo at Pavia, on the 10th of June, 1468, in these
terms:—
"Whereas, we, deeming those men to be worthy of distinction and
preference who are gifted with such genius and talent as have been in all

ages esteemed, especially for architecture founded upon arithmetic and
geometry, which, as foremost among the seven liberal arts, and as
depending upon exact science, require profound knowledge and great
ability, and are therefore highly appreciated by us; and whereas, we, having
sought everywhere, but particularly in Tuscany, the fountain of architects,
without finding any one really versant and skilful in that profession, and
having lately heard by report, and since ascertained by full experience, the
learning and attainments of the distinguished Messer Lutiano, bearer
hereof; and, further, we, having resolved to erect in our city of Urbino a fair
residence, in all respects befitting the rank and reputation of our
predecessors and ourselves,—have, for these causes, selected the said
Messer Lutiano as engineer and chief of all those employed upon that
fabric, in building, hewing, woodwork," &c. &c. The deed goes on to
enjoin upon all the workmen implicit obedience to his orders, and to
authorise his entire control over them, and over the funds destined for the
palace.[120]
Although the date of this patent may appear inconsistent with that already
adopted for the foundation of the Corte, as this residence was usually
called, it is clear, from other documents printed along with it, that
operations were already considerably advanced under the superintendence
of Luziano. In the preceding year we find him designed the Count's
engineer, acting as a sort of clerk of the works, and litigating with a builder
from Como regarding measurements of masonry; indeed, he seems to have
continued these duties until his death at Pesaro, soon after that of his patron,
whose liberality enabled him to leave considerable property to his children.
The edifice thus commenced was carried on by Baccio Pontelli, a
Florentine artist, who, though designing himself a carpenter, was much
employed by Sixtus IV. to erect important fabrics in Rome. It is impossible
now to decide whether he was at first assistant to Lauranna, or what portion
of the Corte we owe to him, the entire credit of which seems claimed in a
presumptuous epitaph, apparently of his own composition, which is given
by Gaye.[121] He was employed upon it in 1481, when applied to by
Lorenzo de' Medici to furnish a design or plan of the already famous work,
a request handsomely responded to by Federigo, in that almost oriental
exaggeration of compliment still usual in Lower Italy, with the assurance
that such a wish was a command, and that he only regretted being unable to

send him the building itself, of which he might fully dispose. Baccio's letter
mentions it as then at the fifth story, and that his drawing had been done
from actual measurements, thus proving he had no access to the original
plan,—circumstances strongly presumptive that the design was not his, but
that of Luziano, who lived till the following year. The praise bestowed by
him on the carved ornaments and decorations render it probable that they
had been under his peculiar charge. There is no evidence as to the length of
Baccio's stay at Urbino, but he is said to have obtained the privileges of
citizenship, and to have built the church of S. Bernardino and the castle of
Sinigaglia.
Such are the architects whom recent investigations enable us to claim as
authors of the palace at Urbino, which Vasari and many others have
celebrated for the beauty and comfort of its internal arrangements, the
magnificence of its saloons, the convenience of its imposing stairs; for its
smiling chambers, its vast corridors, its airy porticoes and pleasant baths, its
gilded doors and windows, its rich furniture, carpets, and brocades. The
assertion of that writer, so often inaccurate as to Umbrian matters, ascribing
its merit to Francesco di Giorgio, may now be considered as disposed of,
notwithstanding the zeal with which his countrymen of Siena have
reasserted his claims; but the lights lately thrown upon his performances by
Promis of Turin, enable us to restore to him the credit of certain bellicose
decorations, often imputed to Roberto Valturio, and which have attracted
attention rather from their adaptation to the genius of Count Federigo than
from their artistic value. They consist of a frieze of military machines,
which Vasari mentions as painted in fresco, but which were carved in relief
along the exterior basement of the palace: designs for most of these remain
among the MSS. of Francesco, and they have been engraved and tediously
explained in Bianchini's ponderous work. Their original object was no
doubt to illustrate the pompous inscription which surrounds the great court
in immense capitals.[122] After being injured and scattered, they were again
collected about a century ago, and arranged by Cardinal Stoppani along the
corridor of the principal story. They are each about three feet by two, rudely
representing seventy-two engines long since disused in war, and interesting
only to the antiquary. Among the sculptors employed upon them, and
similar architectural ornaments in the Corte, was Ambrogio Baroccio of

Milan, great-grandfather of a painter as to whom we shall have much to say
in our fifty-third chapter.
We need not weary our readers by minute descriptions of the palace, which,
upon near approach, hardly realises the imposing effect of its site. The
rugged and broken ground on which it stands has, in a great degree, marred
that unity of plan which is essential to architectural grandeur and harmony,
augmenting at the same time the difficulties of construction.
Notwithstanding this drawback, and the rambling character which a portion
of the building has consequently taken, there is much beauty in the façade
of the great court, and in the unfinished elevation towards the cathedral,
although the brickwork is but partially cased with stone. Barbaro, in his
commentary upon Vitruvius, cites the grand stair as a model of beauty and
convenience, and the corridors of the principal story (enriched, since 1756,
with the museum of antique sculpture and inscriptions collected by Raffaele
Fabretti) are truly magnificent. From these open many splendid rooms,
among which is the great hall, about one hundred and twenty feet in length,
of noble proportions, and severe in a simplicity contrasting with the
chromatic decorations usual in Italy. In its elevated niches were formerly
placed the insignia of its lords and of their allies, but of these none remain
save the winged lion of St. Mark, which still looks proudly down upon the
deserted audience-chamber, where its envoys used to be deferentially
received by those long-departed dukes who often bore its banner to victory.
The next story, which from its ornaments and devices appears to have been
finished by Duke Guidobaldo II., is the summer residence of the cardinal-
legate of Urbino and Pesaro, and, consequently, is seldom shown.
Each of the towers seen in the engraving, and considered by Passavant as
antecedent to Duke Federigo, contains a spiral staircase of curious
construction, leading to balconies whence may be enjoyed a most
characteristic prospect of the surrounding country, wherein

"Hills are not seen, but for the vales betwixt
The deep indentings."

Fatigued by its uptossed and almost barren undulations, the eye turns for
repose to the magnificent sierra, which bounds the horizon. On the extreme
left is Monte Catria, crowned by the convent of S. Albertino, 5600 feet

above the sea. Then comes Monte del Cavallo, described by Cimarelli as
the most beautiful of all the Apennine chain, and named from the horses of
famous race bred by the later princes of Urbino, on the luxuriant pastures of
its gentle slopes and verdant meadows. Monte Nerone, so called from an

"Unwritten story fondly traced
From sire to son,"

which tells that the blood-stained tyrant of Rome once dwelt there, is
supposed to be a slumbering volcano. Its rich iron ore was once highly
productive, and the herbs and simples grown on it were esteemed above all
others in Italy. Far on the sky-line are discerned the Sassi di Simeone, twin
rocks of singularly abrupt form, separated by the Tuscan frontier.
Northward from these stands the massive Monte Carpegna, cradle of the
Montefeltrian race, domineering over their original fief, and giving its local
name to the wind which sweeps from its heights upon the Adriatic. The
mountain view terminates with the triple peaks of San Marino, isolated, it
would seem, by nature, as well as by the forms of its constitution and the
accidents of its history.
The merit specially dwelt upon in the old descriptions of this palace is the
carved work in wood and stone, executed by sculptors brought from various
places, and facilitated by the excellent quality of a close-grained grey
limestone, imported from the Dalmatian coast. The most striking of its
decorations are accordingly the elaborate tracery encircling the architraves,
doorways, lintels, and chimneys, and running along the cornices. This
consists of fine arabesque designs, mingled with dancing loves, and
interlaced with military trophies and heraldic fancies, among which
frequently occur the Garter of England, the Ermine of Naples, the Eagle of
Montefeltro, with several monograms and devices usually worn by Count
Federigo, the origin whereof is described in No. V. of the Appendices. A
kindred art, here lavishly expended, is that of tarsia, or wood inlaying,
which, unlike the more modern marquetrie, was enriched by pure arabesque
designs, and even by historical or religious compositions. In this style,
though now sadly defaced, were many of the doors, and especially the tiny
chapel, with its adjoining sacristy, the latter elaborately panelled in varied
scrolls, and bearing the titles of Federigo, with the date 1476. On the stone-

work of this chapel occur the devices and initials of Duke Guidobaldo II.,
marking probably the alterations made by him.[123]
The following passage, often quoted from the commencement of
Castiglione's Cortegiano, has given rise to considerable misapprehension:
—"Among other laudable actions, Federigo erected, on the rugged heights
of Urbino, a residence, by many regarded as the most beautiful in all Italy,
and so amply provided with every convenience, that it appeared rather a
palatial city than a palace. He furnished it not only with the usual
plenishings of rich brocades in silk and gold, silver plate, and such like, but
ornamented it with a vast quantity of ancient marble and bronze sculptures,
of rare pictures, and musical instruments in every variety, excluding all but
the choicest objects." Now, it so happens that, with every desire to verify
what ought to be a valuable authority for a fact in itself most interesting,
and especially probable of that prince, we have not been able to trace a
single piece of sculpture, and hardly an easel picture, to his possession (a
few portraits, of course, excepted), nor does one contemporary distinctly
mention anything of the sort at Urbino. But whilst truth compels us to an
admission calculated to impair his traditional reputation as an amateur of
the fine arts, there was one branch of them which found in him a most
zealous patron; and among the adornments of his palace was a treasure
rivalling in beauty and excelling in importance all coeval museums of art.
To the right and left of the carriage entrance into the great court-yard are
two handsome saloons, each about forty-five feet by twenty-two, and
twenty-three in height. That on the left contained the famous library of
manuscripts collected by Count Federigo; the corresponding one received
the printed books, which, gradually purchased by successive dukes,
became, under the last sovereign, a copious collection. Baldi, in his
description of the palace, printed in Bianchini's work, dwells on the
judicious adaptation of the former, its windows set high against the northern
sky, admitting a subdued and steady light which invited to study; its air cool
in summer, temperate in winter; its walls conveniently shelved; the
character and objects of the place fittingly set forth in a series of rude
hexameters inscribed on the cornices.[124] Adjoining was a closet fitted up
with inlaid and gilded panelling, beneath which Timoteo della Vite, a
painter whose excellence we shall attest in our thirtieth chapter, depicted
Minerva with her ægis, Apollo with his lyre, and the nine muses with their

appropriate symbols. A similar small study was fitted up immediately over
this one, set round with armchairs encircling a table, all mosaicked with
tarsia, and carved by Maestro Giacomo of Florence, while on each
compartment of the panelling was the portrait of some famous author, and
an appropriate distich. One other article of furniture deserves special notice
—a magnificent eagle of gilt bronze, serving as a lectern in the centre of the
manuscript room. It was carried to Rome at the devolution of the duchy to
the Holy See, but was rescued by Pope Clement XI. from the Vatican
library, and restored to his native town, where it has long been used in the
choir of the cathedral.

Alinari
FIFTEENTH CENTURY COURT OF THE PALAZZO
DUCALE, URBINO

Roscoe has well observed that "by no circumstance in the character of an
individual is the love of literature so strongly evinced, as by the propensity
for collecting together the writings of illustrious scholars, and compressing
'the soul of ages past' within the narrow limits of a library." But it is not

easy now to appreciate the obstacles attending such a pursuit in the age of
Federigo. The science of bibliography can scarcely be said to have existed
before the invention of printing, in consequence of the extreme difficulty of
becoming acquainted with works of which there were but few copies, and
these widely scattered, perhaps scarcely known. Great outlay was required,
either to search out or transcribe manuscripts, and even the laborious habits
which then accompanied learning shrank from a task so beset by
obstructions. Yet there was a bright exception in Thomas of Sarzana, whose
learning supplied the knowledge, and whose elevation to the triple tiara as
Nicholas V. procured him the opportunities, necessary for amassing a
library. Not only did he found that of the Vatican, but he prepared for
Cosimo Pater patriæ a list of authors for the infant collection of S. Marco,
at Florence, which, being recognised as a standard catalogue, was adopted
by Count Federigo. The longer life allowed to the latter enabled him to
outstrip these bibliomaniacs, and all contemporary accumulators, until the
fame of his library stood unrivalled. Accordingly Ruscelli, in his Imprese
Illustri, avers it to be "notorious that the earliest and most famous collection
formed out of the ruins of antiquity was that of Urbino, from whence many
excellent authors were edited, and copies supplied." Marsilio Ficino and
Leandro Alberti, with others of equal weight, have borne similar testimony,
the former from common report, the latter from ocular demonstration; but
we shall content ourselves with quoting from two contemporaries, familiar
with what they describe. To begin with old Sanzi:—

"No fitting outlay on the work he spared
The eye to please; but more intent to feed
The mind, he ardently began to build
A library, so vast, and so select,
As to supply each intellect and taste.
With noble aim such books he there amassed,
That every genius might its flight direct
To kindred objects. Foremost in the band
The works of holy churchmen, all adorned
And bound with wond'rous beauty;
Next what survives of ancient wisdom's thoughts
In classic tongue contained; historians all;
The sacred choir of charming poesy;

In law and medicine many famous names,
Symmetrically ranged; there, too, I note
A wealth of books in divers languages,—
Arab and Greek, with Hebrew reverend;
And sundry others whose rich ornaments
Deserve detailed description, for I've seen
Men of the finest taste in wonder lost
Before them."

No poet's licence need be suspected in this description, for it is thus fully
borne out by Vespasiano, who was originally an agent in amassing these
treasures, and subsequently their custodier.[125] "We have now to mention
the high estimation in which he held all Greek and Latin authors, sacred or
profane; and to him alone was given the enterprise to carry out what no one,
for above a thousand years past, had done, by establishing a library superior
to any formed during all that period. In no respect did he look to expense;
and whenever he learned the existence of any desirable book in Italy, or
abroad, he sent for it without heeding the cost. It is now above fourteen
years since he began to make this collection, and he has ever since
maintained at Urbino, Florence, and elsewhere, thirty-four transcribers, and
has resorted to every means requisite for amassing a famous and excellent
library,—which it now is. He has, in the first place, all the Latin poets, with
their best commentaries; also the entire works of Cicero, with all the orators
and grammarians in that language. In history, he commissioned every
known work of that or the Greek tongue, as well as the orators of the latter.
In moral and natural philosophy, no author of these languages is wanting. In
the faculty of theology he has been most profuse, having, besides the four
doctors of the Church, St. Bernard, Tertullian, Hilary, Remigius, Hugh of
St. Victor, Isidore, Anselm, Rabanus, Dionysius the Areopagite, St. Basil,
Cyril, Gregory Nazarene, John of Damascus, Eusebius, Origen, St. Thomas
Aquinas, Albertus Magnus, Alexander de Alexandro, Duns Scotus,
Bonaventura, Richard Mediavilla, Archbishop Antonio, with all the modern
doctors. There are further all the best civilians, with the lectures of
Bartolomeo Capretti. He had the Bible, that best of books, written in two
volumes, with the richest and most beautiful illustrations, bound in brocade
of gold, and lavishly ornamented with silver; and he made it be thus
gorgeously adorned as the chief of all literature, and it has no equal in our

time.[126] There are also all the Commentaries on the Bible in Greek and
Latin, including Nicolò de Lira. He further has all the treatises on astrology,
geometry, arithmetic, architecture, and military tactics, and a very curious
volume with every ancient and modern military engine: also all books on
painting, sculpture, and music; the standard writers on civil law; the
Speculum Innocentiæ; in medicine, the works of Hippocrates, Galen, and
Avicenna; the writings of Averröe on logic, ethics, and physics; a volume of
early councils; the writings of Boethius on logic, philosophy, and music;
and those of modern authors, with Pius II. at their head. There are all the
works of Petrarch, Dante,[*127] Boccaccio, Colluccio, Leonardo d'Arezzo,
Fra Ambrogio, Gianozzo Manetti, Guarino, Panhormita, Francesco Filelfo,
Perotto, Campano, Mafeo Vegeo, Nicolò Secondino, Pontano, Bartolomeo
Fazii, Gasparino, Paolo Vergaio, Giovanni Argiropolo, Francesco Barbaro,
Leonardo Giustiniani, Donato Acciaiuolo, Alamanno Remicini, Christofero
da Prato the elder, Poggio, Giovanni Tartellio, Francesco d'Arezzo, and
Lorenzo Valla. It was his object to obtain every book in all branches of
learning, ancient and modern, original or translated. He had also of Greek
classics, with their commentaries, Aristotle, Plato, Homer, Sophocles,
Pindar, Menander, Plutarch, Ptolemy, Herodotus, Pausanias, Thucydides,
Polybius, Demosthenes, Æschines, Plotinus, Theophrastus, Hippocrates,
Galen, and Xenophon; the New Testament, St. Basil and other fathers in
Greek, with the Book of Paradise, lives of the Egyptian saints, lives of
Balaam and Jehosaphat; and all works on geometry, arithmetic, and
astrology, as well as every other attainable writer in that language. It was
the same as to Hebrew books, beginning with the Bible, and including
philosophy, medicine, and other faculties, with every known commentary;
and there was a remarkable polyglot Psalter in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin.
"On all this the Duke spent upwards of 30,000 ducats; and he made a rule
that every book should be bound in crimson, ornamented with silver, from
the Bible already described down to the modern authors. It is thus a truly
rich display to see all these books so adorned, all being manuscripts on
vellum, with illuminations, and each a complete copy,—perfections not
found in any other library. Indeed, shortly before he went to the siege of
Ferrara, I compared the catalogue with lists of other libraries which he had
procured, such as those of the Vatican, Florence, St. Mark, Pavia, down to

that of the University of Oxford in England, and found that all but his own
had deficiencies and duplicates."
The book of regulations for the court and household of Guidobaldo I.
contains these rules for the administration of the library[128]:—"The
librarian should be learned, of good presence, temper, and manners; correct
and ready of speech. He must get from the gardrobe an inventory of the
books, and keep them arranged and easily accessible, whether Latin, Greek,
Hebrew, or others, maintaining also the rooms in good condition. He must
preserve the books from damp and vermin, as well as from the hands of
trifling, ignorant, dirty, and tasteless persons. To those of authority and
learning, he ought himself to exhibit them with all facility, courteously
explaining their beauty and remarkable characteristics, the handwriting and
miniatures, but observant that such abstract no leaves. When ignorant or
merely curious persons wish to see them, a glance is sufficient, if it be not
some one of considerable influence. When any lock or other requisite is
needed, he must take care that it be promptly provided. He must let no book
be taken away but by the Duke's orders, and if lent must get a written
receipt, and see to its being returned. When a number of visitors come in, he
must be specially watchful that none be stolen. All which is duly seen to by
the present courteous and attentive librarian, Messer Agabito."
Without attempting any enumeration of those who filled the office thus
regulated, we may refer to Vespasiano, already mentioned in that capacity,
and to Lorenzo Abstemio of Macerata, an eminent professor of literature
about 1500. But the most useful of them was probably Veterano, who was
spared to serve three Dukes of the two Urbino dynasties, and the fruits of
whose laborious caligraphy may still be recognised in many a fair MS. at
the Vatican. Among these is a Commentary on the Triumphs of Petrarch, a
note on the colophon of which informs us that it was one of about sixty
volumes copied by him on parchment for this collection. A gluttonous
patriotism has led some encomiasts of the duchy into the glaring absurdity
of imputing the authorship of these manifold works to their transcriber,
whose original compositions, to be noticed in our twenty-fifth chapter,
suggest few regrets that his long life should have been chiefly devoted to
more mechanical occupations. We are fortunately able to test the reputation
enjoyed by Count Federigo's library; for, although some of its treasures
were lost in the revolutions of 1503 and 1517, and although the MSS.

transported to the Vatican in 1658 included many additions subsequent to
his death, still the volumes most important to literature, and most
embellished by art, may, with few exceptions, be attributed to his liberality.
The estimate of 30,000 ducats, already stated from Vespasiano as the cost of
the collection in his time, is carried to 40,000 by Gallo Galli, who lived
under Duke Guidobaldo II., thus affording a probable inference as to the
augmentation it had received between 1482 and 1566. This increase, which
went on until the devolution of the duchy in 1631, was chiefly by a mass of
unpublished writings of local interest or authorship, without any pretence to
artistic beauty. The numbers now catalogued are thus no evidence of its
original extent; but we may mention that an inventory by Stefano Gradio,
though by no means complete, includes 1361 entries; that Platner, in the
Beschreibung der Stadt Rom, estimates the ducal MSS. at 1711; but that the
catalogue compiled by Mauro Costa, in 1797, and now actually in use,
exceeds four thousand articles. As some of the illuminated MSS. executed
for Count Federigo are of the highest interest, we shall notice a few of them
in VI. of the Appendices, and in our forty-eighth chapter shall mention the
fate of this library, after the extinction of the ducal line.

"Within this curious palace dwelt a soul
Gave lustre to each part, and to the whole:
This drest his face in courteous smiles, and so
From comely gestures sweeter manners flow.
This courage joyned to strength; so the hand, bent,
Was valour's; opened, bounty's instrument;
Which did the scale and sword of justice hold,
Knew how to brandish steel and scatter gold."
Thomas Carew.

Before concluding our account of the Corte, we may mention some
appurtenances intended for the more material requirements of its inmates.
Of the garden we can say nothing, horticulture being then a latent science;
neither need we linger upon the court-yard provided for tennis or ball. But
the stable-range, built by Francesco di Giorgio in 1475, is thus curiously
described by himself: "From the stable, constructed by me, for my most
illustrious Duke of Urbino, may be seen how much a complete and perfect
set ought to include. It is capable of containing three hundred horses, half
on either side, being twenty-eight feet wide, thirty-six high, and three

hundred and sixty long,[129] and over it there is a beautiful loft for hay and
straw, with square holes for throwing down the forage, and above all a roof.
There are several contiguous rooms, the first being a yard or shed, wherein
to mount and dismount, or to shoe the horses; in it is a fountain with two
troughs, and a pipe passing thence under the mangers, with various stop-
cocks for the supply of water, by means whereof the stable can be cleansed,
and to facilitate this operation the floor falls towards the centre, enabling
such horses as wish it to stand higher before. Next the fountain is a corn-
store, with the head-groom's rooms above it, overlooking the stable, and
beyond these a servant's room, and one for medicines, saddlery, repairs, &c.
Lastly, there is a great tower, with a winding-stair, accessible only to the
owner, whence he can see the entire establishment; and this, being known to
the overseer and servants, is a check upon their good conduct."
In a letter by Gallo Galli to Duke Guidobaldo II. in 1566, he mentions
having seen memoranda stating the cost of the Urbino palace at 200,000
ducats, the silver plate at 40,000, a set of tapestries representing the siege of
Troy at 10,000, and the MSS. library at 40,000. Before leaving the subject
we shall transcribe from the Cortegiano an anecdote, not on account of its
value, but as a specimen of the dull wit which Castiglione thought worth
commemorating as the gossip of his model court. "Recollect also the silly
trait, just related by our Lord Duke, of an abbé who, standing by while
Duke Federigo was discussing what to do with the vast quantity of earth
excavated from the foundations of this palace, exclaimed, 'My Lord, I have
thought of a capital contrivance. Desire an immense ditch to be made, into
which it may be put without more ado.' The Duke answered with a smile,
'And where shall we place the earth of the ditch itself?' To which the abbé
replied, 'Make it big enough for both.' And though the Duke repeated that
the larger it was the more earth would there be to remove, he never could
see it, but went on saying, make it so much the greater!"
Sanzi informs us that Federigo had intended to erect, in connection with this
residence, a fane unequalled in regularity, beauty, and ornament, in order at
once to manifest his piety and to provide a last home for his remains. The
cathedral adjoining it, though founded by his father in 1439, was scarcely
well begun until 1471, and when completed, in no way realised his project.
[130] The church of S. Bernardino, also left unfinished at his death, was in
some degree a substitute, being not only a special memorial of his piety, but

supplying a mausoleum for himself and the few after members of his
dynasty.
Of the other residences that shared the cares of Count Federigo, Gubbio was
the most important. Sanzi describes it as facing the south-east, and flanked
by mountains on the north, overlooking fertile valleys and smiling
champaigns, and excelling the attractions of Urbino in charming prospects
and pleasant pathways. Notwithstanding the general truth of this eulogy,
nothing could be more consistent with beauty or convenience than its site,
planted on a slope, with the cathedral right in front, crowded round with
poor buildings, and accessible only by precipitous alleys. Its architecture is
disputed between Francesco di Giorgio and Baccio Pontelli,[*131] nor would
it add much credit to either, its sole merit being minute decorations in hewn
work and inlaid panelling, both after the style we have described at Urbino.
Although the initials of the two Montefeltrian dukes appear in these, it is
believed to have been chiefly built by Guidobaldo, and the oak-tree
cognisance of the Della Rovere indicates in some parts a still later date. The
constant recurrence of the Garter among its ornamental devices is gratifying
to the very rare English visitors of this Apennine town, but no traveller of
taste and intelligence can be otherwise than shocked to find this once
chosen sanctuary of Italian refinement and high breeding, the residence in
which Castiglione recounted his reception at the Tudor court, and where
Fregoso and Bembo were successively bishops, degraded to vile uses and
menaced by speedy ruin. It is now in the hands of a person who there
manufactures wax candles and silk, but on my second visit in 1843 was
closed up entirely and inaccessible. I owe to the obliging attention of Signor
Luigi Bonfatti, a local antiquary of taste and intelligence, who is preparing
a work on the early painters of Gubbio, this notice of the building and its
remaining decorations: "Differing much from the architecture at Urbino, its
court-yard is very fine, of the mixed or composite style usual in that age.
The windows, doors, and chimneys have stone lintels, exquisitely chiselled
in low relief with masterly arabesque designs, those in the interior being
touched with gold. The ceilings, now partially decayed, are all of wood, in
half-relief compartments, with heavy cornices, and roses coloured and
gilded. The palace was completed by Duke Guidobaldo, who commissioned
the cabinet or closet of superb intarsia, thirteen by six and a half feet. This
tiny room is nineteen feet high, but the inlaid work goes only half-way up.

It is of the finest patterns and workmanship, including several emblematic
representations of music, literature, physical science, geography, and war.
On the cornice is an inscription now in part illegible.... It was, in my
opinion, the work of Antonio Mastei of Gubbio, a famous artist in wood,
who executed the beautiful choir of S. Fortunato at Todi, and who is known
to have been much in favour with Dukes Guidobaldo and Francesco Maria
I., the latter of whom gave him an exemption from imposts."[132]
Muzio and Baldi impute to Federigo's munificence many other palaces in
his state, such as Fossombrone, Cagli, Casteldurante, La Carda, Mercatello,
&c.; but most of these were probably forts, of which Francesco di Giorgio
speaks as having one hundred and thirty-six under his charge at once, for
this prince. At the two first-named places, there still remain residences
dating from this reign, and the parks or game-preserves which formerly
surrounded them, embracing circuits of seven and five miles respectively,
were walled in by the Count, and stocked with fallow-deer.[133] These have
long ago run to waste, and the palaces, with their ample halls,

"Shadowy with remembrances
Of the majestic past,"

are now desolate and rapidly falling to ruin.[*134]

It has been aptly observed that "of works which appeal to the eye, any
description must be tedious and inconclusive," but less could not have been
said of creations which constituted the chief praise of Count Federigo
among his contemporaries, and his most enduring glory with posterity. Nor
can it but excite our interest to inquire whence means were obtained for so
lavish an outlay, and for his munificent patronage of letters and arts. When
the eye wanders over the map of Urbino, as possessed by its dukes of the
Della Rovere dynasty, it is difficult to restrict our conceptions to its true
limits at this date. It would probably now be impossible to define these with
perfect accuracy, much of its frontier being then debatable land.[135] Into
this category had fallen part of the original fief of Montefeltro, lying north
of the Foglia. The proper territory of Urbino occupied the central portion of

the far-receding stripe situated between that river and the Metauro, its upper
section being the Brancaleone country, its sea-board divided between
Pesaro and Fano. Out-lying were the holdings of Gubbio and Cagli, the
latter perhaps reaching to the recently acquired townships of Fossombrone.
The state composed of these straggling parts may have included about one-
fourth of the subsequent duchy; but cut off from the coast, and from the
fertile districts which skirt the Adriatic, its rugged uplands and rude climate
derived from nature few elements of wealth. The various wars which had
swept it, and especially the forays and reprisals it had long endured from
the tyrant of Rimini, might well have exhausted its resources, and utterly
impoverished both sovereign and people. The fact was, however, quite
otherwise, war being a source of wealth to both. Military service was their
only trade, and so well did they ply it, that during thirty-four years, short
intervals excepted, the Count drew continuous pay from some foreign
power or adventurer. The value of these engagements may be estimated
from some examples. In 1453 his war pay from Alfonso of Naples exceeded
8000 ducats a month, and for many years he had from him and his son an
annual peace-pension of 6000 in name of past services. At the close of his
life, when captain-general of the Italian league, he drew in war 165,000
ducats of annual stipend, 45,000 being his own share; in peace 65,000 in all.
Of these vast sums a considerable portion went among his hardy
mountaineers, besides their contingent of plunder and perquisites picked up
in the field. Thus was war rendered so acceptable to their interests, as well
as to their tastes and habits, that Sanzi compares them, when their arms are
cast aside, to "unpinioned eagles." Nor did the ravages of invasion prove so
destructive as might be supposed. The entire population were located in
villages or townlets, each a fastness capable of resistance, which, even
when unsuccessful, gave time to conceal their valuables: thus when the sack
began, they had only to save their persons, and these generally were
allowed to go unharmed.[136]

CHAPTER IX
Count Federigo’s varied engagements—Battle of La Molinella—Death and
character of his enemy Malatesta—Affairs of Rimini.

I
T 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.
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."

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]
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.
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]
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.
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.
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 manœuvres. 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]

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.
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]
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.
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]

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]
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.
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."
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]

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]

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]
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.
The princely manner of welcome already established at this mountain court,
which in after generations became proverbial for magnificent hospitalities,