A most impressive ceremony now took place in San Marco, where, before the high altar, she was made a child of Venice. No longer was she a Cornaro, but Caterina Veneta Lusignan. The whole city rejoiced greatly; and one chronicler says: "It seemed to each and all that the Seigniory had won a kingdom, as by God's good grace did actually happen."
Early in 1472 the Bucentaur lay before the Palazzo Cornaro, in waiting for the Queen of Jerusalem, Cyprus, and Armenia. In cloth of gold, and all regal attire, she stood in the doorway of her father's house. The Doge himself led her into the galley, and seated himself at her side. Slowly and majestically the splendid barge moved through the Grand Canal, followed by the prayers and good wishes of thousands of her countrymen, and, it cannot be doubted, by the envy of many of her own sex. At the Lido the admiral of the Cypriote fleet waited with his ships to take his young and beautiful queen to his sovereign.
She was now eighteen years old; and Titian's portrait of her shows a slight, graceful, beautiful girl with a happy face. Her robe is of purple velvet. She wears a crown and veil, and holds a flower in her hand. Why should she not have been happy? Fortunately she had no prophetic vision. She was protected as few young queens had ever been, being the daughter of Venice. The splendor and pomp which had replaced the dead level of monotony in her home must have been intoxicating to her. She had listened with joy and pride to the accounts of her husband's bravery and beauty. She knew that he had preferred her before others, and she did not pay herself so poor a compliment as to doubt her ability to retain and strengthen his love. How beautiful her dreams as she sailed to Cyprus! and we have reason to believe that they were realized for one brief year. And then James died, leaving Caterina about to be a mother, with enemies on every hand.
By his will James bequeathed the kingdom to her and to her child. Her advisers were named by him, and her uncle was of the number; but there were six others, little likely to favor her, since that meant to favor Venice, of which the Cypriotes were jealous. Again Ferdinand of Naples aspired to the throne, and Caterina was by no means ignorant that her parent, the Republic, would not hesitate to take her kingdom from her; but just at that time the Turk was demanding the attention of the Seigniory, and while Venice was not ready to occupy Cyprus, no other power would be permitted to molest the young queen. Meantime Charlotte was enforcing her claim to the throne, but had no support powerful enough to contend with the Venetians.
Things were in this condition when Caterina gave birth to a son, in August, 1473. The Admiral, Mocenigo, and two provveditori of the fleet stood sponsors at the baptism of this grandson of Venice; and by the will of his father his birth should have settled the succession, and brought peace to Cyprus. But Ferdinand had laid deep plots, and had induced the Archbishop of Nicosia to act as his tool; and no sooner had the Venetian fleet left Cyprus than a revolt occurred, and the city of Famagosta, where Caterina was lying ill, was seized by the archbishop, and three of the commissioners, who had been named by James in his will as the protectors of his wife.
There was a terrible scene in the chamber of the queen, whither her physician had fled for safety. He was pursued, and absolutely slain in Caterina's arms. Her uncle, who had done so much for her, and her cousin, Marco Bembo, were killed, and their bodies thrown into the castle moat, within sight of the windows of Caterina's chamber; and so terrified was she that she dared not have them removed until they had been half devoured by dogs. The baby James was taken away, and Caterina was held a close prisoner. Alfonso of Naples had been married to Zaila, an illegitimate daughter of James Lusignan, and had been proclaimed King of Cyprus. A letter was sent to the Venetian Senate attributing the murder of Cornaro and Bembo to a private quarrel with soldiers whom they had not paid; but the Venetian consul sent a true statement of all that had been done to the Seigniory, and Mocenigo was at once despatched to Cyprus with orders to secure the safety of Caterina and her child at any cost.
Mocenigo had already been alarmed, and before receiving these orders had sent his provveditor, Soranzo, to do what he could, promising to follow speedily. Soranzo found the conspirators quarrelling with each other, while the Cypriotes of Nicosia and Famagosta were in revolt, and demanding the liberation of the queen. When Mocenigo arrived, the chief conspirators fled. He took possession of the forts in the name of Venice, and left them in the keeping of men devoted to the Republic. Many of the revolutionists were executed, and everything possible was done to impress upon the inhabitants the fact that Caterina and her kingdom would be protected by the strong arm of Venice, against which Cyprus was powerless in its present unsettled condition.
Caterina presented to Mocenigo a golden shield emblazoned with the arms of Lusignan. Apparent quiet reigned, and the admiral sailed away. Venice had now obtained a right to a share in the government of Cyprus, which she carefully followed up by appointing a provveditor and two councillors to reside permanently at Cyprus to aid the queen in her government.
A few months of comparative peace came at last to the young mother, and we can picture her joy at the restoration of her baby and her delight in watching his budding affection for her. But it would seem that evil fortune had selected Caterina for its victim, and that she was fated to drain the cup of sorrow and bitterness. When a year old, the little James died. The queen wrote to the Senate of her sorrow; and her father, Marco Cornaro, was sent out to comfort his daughter, and bear to her the sympathy and condolences of the Republic. He was also empowered to act with Soranzo, as the agent of Venice, should any fresh revolution occur.