Читать книгу Beatrice d'Este, Duchess of Milan, 1475-1497 - Cartwright Julia - Страница 18
1490–1491
ОглавлениеThe young Marquis of Mantua, Gian Francesco Gonzaga, had proved himself a more ardent lover than Lodovico Sforza. He frequently exchanged letters and compliments with his youthful bride, or sent Isabella presents and verses written in her honour by Mantuan poets. After his father's death in 1484, he visited Mantua, and brought Duchess Leonora a Madonna painted by the hand of the great Paduan master, Andrea Mantegna, the court painter of the Gonzagas. In the autumn of the same year, Leonora took her daughter to Mantua for a short visit, where she first met Gian Francesco's sister, Elizabeth Duchess of Urbino, who was to become her dearest friend and constant companion in the early days of her married life. Four years afterwards, the same Elizabeth, the peerless Duchess of Castiglione and Bembo's adoration, stopped at Ferrara on her wedding journey to her new home of Urbino, and received an affectionate welcome from Leonora and her daughters. The duchess, she wrote, treated her as a mother, while in the Marchesana she had already found a loving sister and friend. On the 11th of February, 1490, Isabella's own wedding was celebrated at Ferrara, and the following morning the bride rode through the streets of the city, with the Duke of Urbino on her right and the Ambassador of Naples on her left hand. On the 12th, the bride set out for Mantua, travelling by water up the river Po in a stately bucentaur presented to Isabella by Duke Ercole, adorned with rich carving and gilding. Her parents and three brothers, Alfonso, Ferrante, and the boy Ippolito, afterwards well known as Ariosto's patron, Cardinal d'Este, with a large suite, accompanied her to the gates of Mantua, where a magnificent reception awaited her. The young marquis had made great preparations to welcome his bride, and, after the fashion of the days, had borrowed gold and silver plate, carpets, and hangings from all his friends and relations, including the famous tapestries of the Trojan war, which were the chief ornaments of the palace of Urbino. The fêtes passed off brilliantly, the crowds which assembled in the streets of Mantua were enormous, and the utmost enthusiasm was excited by the youth and loveliness of the bride. The only drawback was the absence of Mantegna, whom Pope Innocent had detained in Rome, in spite of his master's urgent request that the painter might return in time to arrange the wedding festivities.
The void which Isabella left in her old home was keenly felt alike by her mother and sister. The duchess could not console herself for her daughter's absence, and after spending a delightful week with her sister-in-law Elizabeth on the lake of Garda, among the lemon-groves and gardens of those sunny shores, Isabella and her husband returned to Ferrara in April. Here she found that Beatrice's marriage had been again put off by Signor Lodovico's wish until the summer, and Isabella agreed to return to Ferrara early in July, and accompany her mother and sister to Milan. But when July came and the young marchioness reached Ferrara, she found to her surprise that all these plans had been suddenly changed. Lodovico had once more found it impossible to keep his engagement, and pleaded urgent public affairs and unavoidable pressure of business to excuse his apparent apathy. This time the duke and duchess were seriously annoyed, and began to doubt if Lodovico ever intended to wed their daughter. The question was gravely discussed during Isabella's visit, and a messenger from Milan suddenly reached Ferrara late one evening. It was no other than Messer Galeazzo Visconti, one of Lodovico's most trusted envoys, who had ridden from Milan in great haste, with letters from his lord. The contents of these letters remained unknown. One thing only was clear: they gave the duke great dissatisfaction. And Messer Galeazzo departed the next day, as quickly as he came. "I have tried in vain," wrote Benedetto Capilupi, the Marquis of Mantua's agent at Ferrara, "to discover the reason of all these disturbances. Every one is out of temper, and the duke seems to be very much displeased. M. Galeazzo has left suddenly."
Isabella returned to join her husband at Mantua, leaving affairs in this unsatisfactory state. Beatrice's wedding seemed further off than ever, and doubts as to her union with Signor Lodovico began to be openly expressed. It was well known at Ferrara, where everything that happened at the court of Milan was minutely reported to Duke Ercole by his faithful envoy, Giacomo Trotti, that Lodovico Sforza had a mistress to whom he was fondly attached, and whom he had for many years past treated with the respect and honour due to a wife. This was Cecilia Gallerani, afterwards the wife of Count Lodovico Bergamini, a young Milanese lady of noble birth, as distinguished for her learning as for her beauty. She spoke and wrote Latin fluently, composed sonnets in Italian, and delivered Latin orations to the theologians and philosophers who met at her house. Contemporary writings abound in allusions to the rare virtues and learning of "la bella Gallerani," the Sappho of modern times. Scaligero wrote epigrams in her honour, Ortensio Lando classes her with Isabella d'Este and Vittoria Colonna among the most cultured women of the age. The novelist Matteo Bandello, himself a friar of the Dominican convent of S. Maria delle Grazie at Milan, is never tired of singing Cecilia's praises, and of describing the pleasant company who met at the countess's palace in Milan or at her villa near Cremona. There, he tells us, all the finest wits, all the most distinguished strangers in Milan assemble, and you may hear valiant captains reasoning with doctors and philosophers, or look at paintings and designs by living artists and architects, and listen to the playing and singing of the best musicians. As a young girl, Cecilia's charms captured the heart of the Moro, who, as early as 1481, bestowed the estate of Saronno, which he had inherited from his brother Sforza, upon her by a deed of gift, in which he extolled her learning and excellence, and at the same time recalled the merits and services of her ancestors. Soon after Leonardo da Vinci's arrival in Milan, Lodovico employed him to paint the portrait of his fair young mistress, and we have more than one proof of the admiration which the Florentine master's work excited among his contemporaries. In the Rime of the court-poet, Bellincioni, we find the following sonnet evidently inspired by this picture and bearing the inscription: "On the portrait of Madonna Cecilia, painted by Maestro Leonardo." The poet seeks to appease Dame Nature's wrath at the sight of this portrait, in which the painter has represented the lovely maiden "listening, not speaking," but so full of life and radiance, that the sun's beams grow dim before the brightness of her eyes. And instead of envying art, he bids her rejoice that this living image of so beautiful a form will be handed down to future ages, and give thanks to Lodovico's wisdom and Leonardo's genius for having preserved this fair face to be the joy and wonder of posterity. "Thine, O Nature," he cries, "is the honour! the more living and beautiful Cecilia shall appear in the eyes of generations to come, the greater will be thy glory! For long as the world endures, all who see her face will recognize in Leonardo's work the close union of Art and Nature."
"Che lei vedrà, così ben che sia tardo,
Vederla viva, dirà: basti ad noi
Comprender or quel che è natura et arte."
On the 26th of April, 1498, a year after Beatrice d'Este's death, her sister the Marchioness Isabella herself wrote to the Countess Bergamini from Mantua, begging her for the loan of the portrait which Leonardo had painted of her and which she had formerly seen in Milan. "Having to-day seen some fine portraits by the hand of Giovanni Bellini, we began to discuss the works of Leonardo, and wished we could compare them with these paintings. And since we remember that he painted your likeness; we beg you to be so good as to send us your portrait by this messenger whom we have despatched on horseback, so that we may not only be able to compare the works of the two masters, but may also have the pleasure of seeing your face again. The picture shall be returned to you afterwards, with our most grateful thanks for your kindness, and assuring you of our own readiness to oblige you to the utmost of our power, etc.
"Isabella d'Este.
From Mantua."
Cecilia sent the precious picture by the courier to Mantua, with the following note in reply:—
"Most Illustrious and Excellent Madonna and very dear Lady,
"I have read your Highness's letter, and since you wish to see my portrait I send it without delay, and would send it with even greater pleasure if it were more like me. But your Highness must not think this proceeds from any defect in the Maestro himself, for indeed I do not believe there is another painter equal to him in the world, but merely because the portrait was painted when I was still at so young and imperfect an age. Since then I have changed altogether, so much so that if you saw the picture and myself together, you would never dream it could be meant for me! All the same, your Highness will, I hope, accept this proof of my good-will, and believe that I am ready and anxious to gratify your wishes, not only in respect to the portrait, but in any other way that I can, since I am ever Your Highness's most devoted slave and commend myself to you a thousand times.
"Your Highness's servant,
Cecilia Visconta Bergamina,[3]
From Milan, the 29th of April, 1498."
Since that day when the great Florentine first painted her, Cecilia Gallerani had developed into a handsome matron, and as Lodovico Sforza's recognized mistress she enjoyed a position of great honour at court. For some years she occupied a suite of rooms in the Castello of Milan, where her lover constantly visited her and took the greatest delight in her company. His passion for this beautiful and intellectual woman only seemed to increase 108 with years. She had already borne him one son, the Leone, whom he was known to love so well that his courtiers did not dare tell him the sad news when the child died suddenly in 1487. The Duke of Bari, it was even said, intended ere long to make her his lawful wife, and thus to render her future issue legitimate.
Under these circumstances, it can hardly be wondered if Lodovico Sforza showed some reluctance in keeping the troth which he had plighted to the young princess of Este, while Duke Ercole's vexation was the more pardonable. For a time it seemed as if a rupture between the two houses was inevitable, and all thought of a union between them must be abandoned. But soon a change came over Il Moro's dream. The difficulties in the way of a closer union with Cecilia Gallerani were great, and must invariably lead to jealousies and quarrels of a serious order. His own position in Milan would be endangered, and fresh hindrances placed in the way of his future designs. At the same time, the alliances with Ferrara and Mantua were both of great importance to the state, and could not be lightly thrown away. So he determined to sacrifice his inclinations to political exigencies, and make Beatrice d'Este his wife.
Accordingly, at the end of August he sent another ambassador, Francesco da Casate, to Ferrara with a magnificent gift for his bride, in the shape of a necklace of large pearls set in gold flowers, with a very fine pear-shaped pendant of rubies, pearls, and emeralds. This costly jewel was duly presented to Beatrice in the name of her affianced husband, and Duchess Leonora wrote forthwith to give her daughter Isabella the good news, informing her that Signor Lodovico hoped she would accompany her mother and sister to Milan that autumn for the wedding. The young marchioness was delighted to accept this invitation, and in the course of a few days she paid another visit to Ferrara, to assist in the preparations for her sister's marriage. Messer Galeazzo Visconti was sent there again to learn the duke and duchess's pleasure as to their daughter's journey, and, after making the final arrangements, left Ferrara on the 26th of November. The bride's departure was fixed for the last day of the year, and the wedding, it was decided, should take place in the chapel of the Castello of Pavia on the 16th of January.
Isabella hurried to Mantua to buy horses and clothes, jewels and plate for her journey, and announced her intention of taking upwards of one hundred persons in her suite, with ninety horses and trumpeters. Afterwards, however, she reduced the number to fifty persons and thirty horses at the request of Lodovico, who begged her to bring as few attendants as possible, owing to the large number of guests who were expected at Milan. Her husband, the Marquis Gianfrancesco, had naturally been included in the invitation, but as a close ally of the Venetians he did not think it politic to appear at the wedding of Lodovico Sforza. The Signory of Venice were known to look coldly on this alliance between Ferrara and Milan, and entertained the deepest distrust of Lodovico's policy. So Isabella decided to join her mother and sister on their journey up the river, and proceed with them to Pavia and ultimately to Milan. Meanwhile another emissary from Milan had arrived at Ferrara. This was the young sculptor, Cristoforo Romano, who was sent to Signor Lodovico to carve a bust-portrait of his bride before she left her father's home. The son of a Pisan sculptor who had settled in Rome, Cristoforo's genius had attracted attention when he was quite a boy, and he had been sent to Milan by Cardinal Ascanio Sforza. The young Roman master was one of those brilliant and versatile artists who especially commended themselves to Lodovico. He sang and played the lute admirably, while his literary tastes made him the intimate friend of Bembo and Castiglione, and a great favourite with the cultured princesses of Mantua and Urbino. He takes a leading part in the dialogues of the Cortigiano, and is frequently mentioned as worthy to rank with Michael Angelo, whose fame he might have rivalled had he not suffered from continual ill health. As it is, the few works which he left behind him are marked with singular grace and refinement. His bust of Beatrice, now in the Louvre, where for many years it passed as the work of Leonardo, is at once remarkable for its truth and charm. The somewhat irregular features of the maiden of fifteen years are admirably given, the roundness of her cheeks, the pouting lips and slightly retroussé nose, and the curling locks are faithfully represented; yet we realize the force of character that lies under this soft, child-like face, and the frank joyousness which made her so attractive. Each stray lock of hair is rendered with delicate accuracy, the brocaded bodice of her gown and the scarf lightly thrown over her shoulders are elaborately adorned with the triangular diamond and other favourite devices of the house of Este. The quaint figure of the two hands holding a veil, from which fertilizing dust falls on the open flower, is supposed to be an emblem of marriage, and is said to signify that Beatrice was already an affianced bride. But since the words "Herculis filiæ" are cut in the marble, it is plain that Cristoforo carved the bust while the young duchess was still in her father's home, and probably took it home with him that autumn to Milan.
That year the winter set in with unusual severity. The bitter frost and cold which man and beast endured that January were long remembered, both in Mantua and Ferrara. On Christmas night it began to snow, and so heavy and continuous was the fall, that by noon on the next day the snow lay three feet deep in front of the Vescovado, or Bishop's house, opposite the Este palace. The Po was frozen over, and the ice on the river never thawed until the first week in February, while the snow lasted till the 12th of March, and some patches might still be seen in the streets of Ferrara on the 20th of that month.
In the midst of these unwonted rigours, the wedding-party set out on their long journey. The royal brides of these days seem to have been singularly unlucky in the matter of weather. For one thing, they always travelled in the depths of winter. Elizabeth Gonzaga almost died of exhaustion after the sufferings of her journey from Mantua to Urbino in a violent tempest, which kept her ship tossing on the waves of the Po for several days and nights. The fleet which conveyed Isabella and her escort from Naples to Leghorn, narrowly escaped shipwreck off the coast of Tuscany. Bianca Sforza had to ride in December over the roughest roads across the Alps of the Valtellina, to join her Imperial lord at Innsbrück. And now Leonora and her daughters were called upon to brave the terrors of an Arctic winter on their way to Milan.
"On the 29th of December, 1490," writes the diarist of Ferrara, "Madonna Beatrice, daughter of Duke Ercole, went to Milan to marry Signor Lodovico Sforza, accompanied by her mother, Leonora Duchess of Ferrara; and also by Messer Sigismondo, her uncle"—the duke's younger brother, Cardinal d'Este—"and her brother, Don Alfonso, who went to bring home his bride, Madonna Anna, sister of the Duke of Milan and daughter of Galeazzo, and he rode in a sledge because the Po was frozen."[4]
The ladies of the party travelled in rude country carts—"carrette"—as far as Brescello, where the Po was navigable, and they were able to continue their journey by water to Pavia. Here Messer Galeazzo Visconti was awaiting them with a fleet of boats and three bucentaurs, by which pompous name the rude barges in which these high-born personages travelled were glorified. The many discomforts and the actual cold and hunger which the Este ladies endured during the five days which they spent on board these vessels are graphically described in a letter addressed to Isabella's husband by her Ferrarese lady-in-waiting, Beatrice de' Contrari, after the travellers had reached Pavia. The boat which bore the provisions for the party was delayed by stress of weather, so that the travellers were left with but scanty breakfast and no dinner. When at length they anchored near the shore of Toresella at three o'clock at night, the Marchesana and her ladies were in a starving condition. "If it had not been for the timely help of Madonna Camilla, who sent us part of her supper from her barge, I for one," writes the lively lady-in-waiting, "should have certainly been by this time a saint in Paradise." As for going to bed, all wish for sleep was put out of their heads by the rocking of the ship and the uncomfortable berths, and the poor Marchesana was so cold and wretched without a fire that she wished herself dead, and her lady-in-waiting could not keep back her tears. However, at length these miseries were ended, Piacenza was safely reached, on the 12th of January, and the royal ladies and their companions were hospitably entertained by Count Bartolommeo Scotti, and enjoyed the luxury of warm fires and comfortable beds!
"And now that we have arrived," wrote Beatrice de' Contrari to her lord, the marquis, "and are beginning to enjoy these weddings for the sake of which we have suffered so many discomforts, I am thinking seriously of making my last will and testament."[5]
After a day's rest at Piacenza, the bridal party continued their journey up the river, and reached Pavia at half-past four on Sunday afternoon. Here Signor Lodovico was awaiting them on the banks of the river Ticino, which joins the Po a few hundred yards below the city, with a gallant company of Milanese lords and gentlemen, and himself conducted first Beatrice and then her mother and sister to the shore. Together they rode on horseback over the covered bridge which spans the river, and passed through the long streets until they reached the goal of their journey, and entered the gates of the far-famed Castello of Pavia.