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, may be learned from the visit of Borso, Marquis of Ferrara, who, in March, 1471, while passing to Rome, spent four days at Urbino and Gubbio, with an escort of 500 horsemen, 100 on foot, and 150 mules. He was immediately thereafter made Duke by Paul, who signalised his elevation by a hunting-field on the most exaggerated scale. Berni tells us that it brought together about 25,000 people, and that among the returns of slaughter were 100 oxen, and as many calves. Ere a few months had passed, the Pontiff and the Duke were numbered with the dead; the former died unregretted, but the mild sway of the latter passed into a proverb, "the time of Duke Borso" being long quoted in contrast with that of less popular sovereigns. During next year another remarkable guest arrived. Pietro Riario, the new Pontiff's favourite nephew, having been raised by him to the purple, and appointed legate of all Italy, made a pompous progress throughout the provinces thus placed under his nominal jurisdiction.[*157] He was met on the frontier by the Count, accompanied by the Lords of Faenza, Rimini, and Pesaro, with a noble following, and conducted to the palace of Gubbio, Federigo and his nephew Ottaviano della Carda leading the palfrey of this proud parvenu. The name of Pietro will recur in our thirty-first chapter; meanwhile we may cite the sketch of him preserved to us by Giovanni Sanzi in reference to this visit.
|
"He was a man, if well his mind I wot, Magnanimous but lavish; to his friends Most generous and liberal; to the learned A patron kind, though indiscriminate. The locust well might typify his life: In youth a friar, but no longer bent On things of such high import, now he deemed Himself all but supreme. Yet of his deeds No record lives in prose or lofty song, No fame but of a splendour all apart From churchman's calling, more offensive still To laymen. Thus elate and arrogant (For pride of place the youthful heart corrupts), His whim it was through Italy to speed In gorgeous array, till sudden death Snatched him from these delights. * * * * * * * Just as a locust by the sun struck down, So perished in their prime his fancies vain, Despite the projects hatched beneath the shade Of his red hat." |
[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.