BY JACOPO DELLA QUERCIA
A certain marquis of Carretto, living in Lucca at the close of the fourteenth century, had a daughter named Ilaria. Ilaria was like Helen of Troy, "a daughter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair."[23] Her face was delicately cut in a patrician mould, and she carried her head with the air of a princess. The marquis must have been proud of his beautiful daughter, and as she grew into womanhood he looked about for a suitable match for her. There was little romance about marriages in those days, and when a rich widower sought Ilaria's hand, she was doubtless thought by all a very fortunate maiden.
Her husband, Paolo Guinigi, was the signor or lord of the city of Lucca, and though somewhat despotic in temper was at least without vices. He was besides the richest man in Italy. In his treasury, says the historian, "diamonds and rubies, emeralds and pearls, were counted by hundreds." The palace awaiting the bride was magnificently furnished. There was linen from Paris and other French cities, exquisite in quality and in stores so abundant as to delight the heart of a housewife. The walls were hung with tapestries of many colors woven in Arras. Priceless vessels of gold and silver adorned the table. Nor were signs of learning lacking. There was a library, well stocked with the works of classical authors, written in manuscript in the manner of the times.
So far as surroundings make for happiness Ilaria may well have been a happy woman. We like to fancy her queenly figure moving through the stately apartments of the palace or on the green terraces of the garden. But she did not long enjoy the splendors of her surroundings, for two years after her marriage she died. Her husband then ordered of the sculptor Jacopo della Quercia a marble tomb to be placed in the cathedral. On the sarcophagus lay the portrait figure of the lady herself; the sides were richly carved with cherubs holding festoons of flowers, and above was a canopy.
Ilaria lies with hands crossed just where they would naturally fall in her sleep.[24] Her feet rest against a little dog, which, according to the old writer, Vasari, was an emblem of conjugal fidelity. It is surely no harm to fancy that the little creature was the lady's pet. The gown is girdled high, and falling in long, straight folds, is wrapped about the feet. Over this is worn a mantle made with large, loose sleeves, and a high flaring collar, which comes well up under the chin.[25]
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Alinari, photo.John Andrew & Son, Sc. |
| DETAIL OF TOMB OF ILARIA DEL CARRETTO (JACOPO DELLA QUERCIA) Cathedral, Lucca |
Our illustration shows only the head and shoulders of the figure. The head rests on a pillow in a hollow shaped to receive it, and the shoulders are supported by a second and larger cushion underneath. Ilaria's waving hair is parted over the high brow, and brought down on each side the face, completely concealing the ears. A few short tendrils have escaped, and curl daintily over the forehead. She wears a large flower-wound wreath or crown, set aslant over the shapely head. It may be that this is a sort of head-dress worn in her time. No one can look at the face without thinking of a flower, and most of all of the lily. The mouth is moulded in exquisite curves; Ilaria was, indeed, a bewitching woman.
Had the fair marchioness lived to middle age her fortunes would have been sadly altered. In 1430 there was a political upheaval in Lucca, and Guinigi was driven from the city.[26] His palace was pillaged, and the mob even laid desecrating hands upon Ilaria's tomb. An attempt to remove it seems to have been frustrated, and it was dropped on the floor of the transept, where it now stands. It lost, however, the canopy and one ornamented side of the base.