ELEVEN years had now gone by since the marriage of Federigo, and had given him eight daughters. Although the laws of succession were neither well defined nor rigorously adhered to among Italian feudatories, a general desire to see the sovereignty secured in the line of one so justly beloved was felt throughout his state. For an object beyond human aid recourse was had to the Disposer of all good, and to Him were the prayers both of sovereigns and subjects continuously addressed for the blessing of a boy. We are told by Odasio, that the anxious Battista hesitated not to offer her own life in return for the boon of a son worthy of his father; and he gravely attests this supernatural answer to her own and her people's intercession. She saw in a dream a lovely phœnix perched upon a lofty tree, which, after sitting there for thirty-six days, winged its flight heavenward until it touched the sun, and then disappeared in flames. Coincident with this vision was the fulfilment of her desire, and in due time she presented her delighted husband and subjects with a beautiful boy.[158] As her dream occurred while resident at Gubbio, and in supposed response to appeals addressed through S. Ubaldo, the patron of that city, she was careful that her confinement should likewise take place under his auspices. The child was born there on the 17th or 24th of January, 1472,[*159] and whilst the grateful piety of his parents ordered solemn public devotional acknowledgments for the boon, the universal joy was testified by popular festivities and illuminations, which were prolonged until Lent set in. A few days after his birth he was baptised in the cathedral with becoming solemnity by the Bishop, Antonio de' Severi. The names selected were Guido Paulo Ubaldo, of which the second seems never to have been used: the first was, as we have seen, of historical illustration in the family of Montefeltro; the last acknowledged the presumed mediation of the Gubbian saint.[160]

The next partial interruption to the peace which reigned through the Peninsula arose on the side of Tuscany, and called forth the energies of Federigo. There are varying accounts how the squabbles of a few miners brought on a sanguinary contest; but its origin may thus be explained. Volterra, though nominally independent, was tributary to Florence, and under her protection. That community possessed a wide extent of rocky and barren pastures, leased annually by auction for the public good. The poverty of their surface was amply compensated by minerals buried under an arid volcanic soil, which contained abundance of alum, vitriol, salt, and sulphur, besides a sprinkling of precious metals. Some enterprising speculators having obtained a five years' lease of a portion of these grazing lands, formed a mining company along with several Florentine capitalists. The success attending their adventure roused the jealousy of certain Volterran citizens, who grudging such gains at the public expense raised a riot, in which the company's works were injured. The merchants of Florence appealed to their own government, and the intervention thus commenced led to further outrages, until, at the instance of Lorenzo de' Medici, an expedition to humble this contumacy was resolved on. After explaining to the confederate powers the causes of quarrel, the Florentine executive thus announced to their troops Count Federigo's appointment as their leader:—

"On looking round for a captain worthy of your valour, there has been no difficulty in finding one, who from his earliest years has been signalised, under the eyes of you all, by so many and great feats of arms, that there cannot be a question whom you ought to ask for, and we to give. In former times it has frequently happened that a safe commander has been discovered after great exertions and amid grievous perils. But, in this menacing war, the skill, gallantry, influence, and good fortune of the Lord of Urbino save us all trouble in searching out a leader for our army." Federigo was accordingly placed at the head of a hastily mustered force, estimated by Machiavelli at above ten thousand men, though stated much more moderately by Ammirato. Loathing the horrors of an almost civil contest, the Count anxiously desired an amicable arrangement, or, failing that, a prompt issue of this petty quarrel. In a few days he overran the territory

"Of lordly Volaterra,
Where scowls the far-famed hold
Piled by the hands of giants,
For god-like kings of old;"

and from his quarters at Mazzola, within four miles of their gates, dissuaded the authorities from an unavailing defence, urging, according to Baldi, among other motives for wishing to spare their city, that it was the birthplace of Persius the poet, and offering his mediation to procure for them favourable terms. The magistracy, turning a deaf ear alike to friendly remonstrances and classic associations, began to fortify the place, although without a single ally, and unable to engage more than a thousand stipendiaries. To the infinite disgust of the Florentine commissaries, who desired to humble and punish a rebellious vassal, Federigo allowed the defences to be completed, on pretext of awaiting reinforcements of his own, and the pontifical troops, but in the secret hope that emissaries whom he had sent among the citizens might have better success in conciliatory representations. His forbearance was, however, unavailing against obstinate infatuation, and on the arrival of these auxiliaries, a bombardment was begun from the eastern side of the town. Its site was naturally strong, and the tactics of a siege were then always dilatory, so three weeks passed ere a breach was effected in the wall, and even then several days were spent in bringing up to it covered approaches for the assaulting party. The stipendiaries, regarding the cause as hopeless, now deserted, and the citizens deemed it full time to sue for terms. After negotiations, which were remitted to Florence, it was agreed to surrender the place, on a pledge that life and property would be spared, and that the past would be buried in oblivion. But the authorities, apprehending from their own populace and garrison an outbreak of indignation against these conditions, stipulated that troops should be secretly introduced for preservation of order, preparatory to admitting the besiegers. By some mismanagement, this attempt led to renewed hostilities from the town, but the citadel falling into the hands of the companies who had been so admitted, consternation and confusion spread on all sides. At this juncture a cry was raised from within that the sack was begun, and that all who wished for a share of plunder should look to it.

Other accounts tell us that the walls were carried by assault on the 18th of June, and that a capitulation was then agreed on, by which only certain municipal privileges were surrendered by the city; but that, as the troops entered, an alarm arose of some treacherous movement on the part of the populace, whereupon the Milanese contingent rushed headlong upon them, and commenced a general pillage. Federigo, who had remained outside with the artillery, was made aware of the bloody scenes passing within by cries from the outraged citizens. He instantly proclaimed by trumpet a cessation of hostilities and plunder, commanding all to their quarters, and enjoining the arrest of stragglers. Hurrying to the scene of horrors, he rode among the excited multitude, exerting himself to save the aged and infants, and to protect the women and convents. He compelled the soldiery to lay down their ill-gotten burdens, especially all sacred utensils, and hanged on the spot a Venetian and a Sienese commissary, the alleged authors of this insubordination. But diabolical passions thus roused brooked no control. Hours elapsed, indeed, according to some authorities nightfall arrived, ere the savages could be called off their quarry.

Such appears the substance of numerous contradictory accounts of this unfortunate and mysterious affair.[161] There can be little doubt that it originated in the licentious habits and lax discipline then usual in Italian armies, who looked on plunder as the chief end of war, and regarded pillage as a right rather than a military offence. Almost every writer acquits the Count of blame, and the only imputation against him arose from the terms of a general order, proclaiming death to every soldier found within the walls at sundown, which have been misconstrued into an implied permission for outrage till that hour. It was reserved for flatterers of an after age to soil his fair fame by an invention which they meant as incense to his memory. In proof at once of his moderation and lettered taste, he is stated by these to have contented himself with a great Hebrew Bible as his share of the booty. No contemporary gives the slightest foundation for such a tale, nor have I at all traced to Volterra that curious MS. which will be described in [VI. of the Appendices]. If found there and abstracted at the siege, it was not improbably presented to Federigo by the grateful authorities of Florence, from whom he refused any pay, serving them for love, whilst, in the words of old Sanzi,

"He nothing brought away but honour bright,
Which every other treasure far outshines."[162]

His return from this rapid campaign to the beautiful Queen of Arnoa was a triumphal pageant. Its enthusiastic population met him beyond the gates, and escorted him with acclamations through streets draped with tapestries and rich brocades. In the piazza he was welcomed by the magistrates with a complimentary oration, and at a public banquet received as appropriate gifts the colours of the republic, a handsome charger richly caparisoned, together with a silver helmet, studded with jewels, and chased in gold by the marvellous chisel of Pollaiuolo.[163] Besides a substantial guerdon of lands, houses, brocade stuffs, and vases brimming with bullion, conferred on Federigo, valuable commercial exemptions were decreed in favour of the subjects of Urbino, and three days of uninterrupted festivity scarcely abated the popular rejoicings. Not less valuable in his eyes was the compliment which his good service earned from a private citizen. Poggio Bracciolino being on the outlook for a patron for his History of the Florentines, deemed it could be most appropriately inscribed to one who had just crowned their arms with signal success.

The star of Federigo's fortunes now reached its zenith. The scattered mountain fiefs held by his ancestors had been concentrated by his first marriage, and extended by his policy or prowess.[164] His second nuptials, long crowned by singular domestic felicity, had at length given him an heir. He had founded palaces and churches worthy the admiration of coming generations. He had wielded the batons, and he enjoyed the affectionate respect, of the five great Peninsular powers. He saw the wars, which had yielded him laurels and enriched his state, subside into a peace still more beneficial to his subjects and conducive to his tastes. But, as old Sanzi moralises,