Lorenzo was alive to the delicacy of his position; the finances of his country and his private resources wasted upon useless stipendiaries; the patience of even his partisans exhausted by a mismanaged and unfortunate war. His resolution was magnanimously formed and boldly executed. Early in December he suddenly embarked for Naples to plead for peace, if not for his family at least for his fellow citizens. The fate of Giacopo Piccinino, in 1465, rendered such an appeal to Ferdinand one of chivalrous daring, but it fully succeeded. The gratifying compliments bestowed on Lorenzo were only equalled by his own munificence; and although negotiations were protracted by Ferdinand's cold and unrelenting disposition, and by the intrigues of Sixtus, he was finally successful in removing all difficulties, and in concluding a defensive treaty with Naples, which was proclaimed on the 25th of March. The Pope, unable to maintain the war single-handed, had no option but to accede; it was not, however, until the end of the year that he would grant a formal remission, and the removal of ecclesiastical censures. To obtain this grace, there arrived in Rome in November an embassy of eleven eminent citizens of Florence, who, prostrated in the dust on Advent Sunday in the metropolitan church, confessed their derelictions of duty, and implored pardon. They, however, did not receive absolution until the irate Pontiff had read them a severe rebuke, and had gently applied to the shoulders of each a scourge of penance, whilst they recited the fifty-first penitentiary psalm.[194]
Whilst the Duke of Calabria remained at Siena, nominally to overawe the Florentines, and maintain his recent advantages, but in reality ripening those schemes by which, ever since 1446, the house of Aragon had aimed at establishing their influence in that republic, Federigo, after being entertained at a ball in the Palazzo Pubblico, on the 18th of December, 1479, went to the baths of Viterbo, which had been recommended for his still suffering limb. We owe to Sanzi some notice of his residence in that town, where his numerous suite, and his own graceful and polished address, made a general sensation. It was his delight to receive as guests such personages of distinction as passed that way to Rome. Among these was the Duke of Saxony, who was repairing to the Holy City on a pious pilgrimage with a goodly cortège. To him and his attendants Federigo's courtly demeanour and splendid hospitality were an agreeable surprise: though "barbarians" by birth, they were fully qualified to appreciate such civilities, nor were they allowed to depart without a promise to renew their visit to him at Urbino on their return homewards. His son, Guidobaldo, and his nephew, Ottaviano della Carda, joined in doing the honours to their guest, who was distantly related to them through the Gonzaga family, and they parted with mutual compliments and good wishes. Soon after Christmas, Federigo received from the Pope, by the hands of Pier Felice, his resident at Rome, the Sword and Hat, honours among the highest at his Holiness's disposal, and reserved for sovereigns of tried fidelity and devotion to the papacy, but which seemed on this occasion to acquire new illustration in the person of the recipient. In May he addressed this letter to his allies of Siena:—
"Mighty and potent Lords, dearest Brothers,
"It has pleased our lord his Holiness, and his Majesty the most serene King, that I may return home; where, and wherever I may be, your magnificences may dispose of me and mine as of your own, for this much my long and true friendship requires and exacts. And I ever shall remember the great love and kindness I met with in many parts of your land. Moreover I recommend to you my son Antonio, for whom I have taken the precaution to let him be conducted home by the goodness of Ottaviano, who accompanies him to Naples, not being at present otherways required. From Viterbo, the 19th May, 1480.
"Federigo Duca d'Urbino, manu propria."
Bidding adieu to Viterbo amid the regrets of its inhabitants, the Duke went to meet his daughter the Princess of Salerno; and having greatly suffered from fatigue and pain during the last two years, returned home almost a wreck. He was triumphantly welcomed by his people, and soon after received a visit from Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, then on his way to France as papal legate. About this time the Ordelaffi of Forlì, making a final effort to maintain themselves against Count Girolamo, appealed to Federigo. But being unable to espouse their part while himself in the papal service, he counselled the last survivor of that race to compromise with Riario by a sale of his rights, and to hope for better days. This having been at length effected, Girolamo and his Countess visited their new principalities, where, notwithstanding the popular dissatisfaction with changes which had extinguished the former dynasties, they speedily so gained all hearts, that Sanzi gravely questions whether Jove himself, if descending upon earth, would have had an equally honourable reception. This may be in some degree attributed to the fickleness of popular opinion, especially in a nation of lively and impressionable character; but there was much to recommend the new-comers. Possessed of ample means, and prodigal in their use, the ambition and political influence of Girolamo promised a long career of advancement and of coming glories for his subjects. Of Caterina, then in her twentieth year, we have this florid description from her biographer Fabio Oliva: "As she issued from her litter, it seemed as if the sun had emerged, so gorgeously beautiful did she appear, laden with silver, and gold, and jewels, but still more striking from her natural charms. Her hair, wreathed in the manner of a coronet, was brighter than the gold with which it was twined. Her forehead of burnished ivory almost reflected the beholders. Her eyes sparkled behind the mantling crimson of her fair cheeks, as morning stars amid those many-tinted lilies which returning dawn scatters along the horizon." In somewhat less inflated language, Ratti, the Sforzan biographer, says: "It would be difficult to find in history any female who so far surpassed her sex, who was so much the amazement of her contemporaries and the marvel of posterity. Endowed with a lofty and masculine spirit, she was born to command; great in peace, valiant in war, beloved by her subjects, dreaded by her foes, admired by foreigners." The features of this siren of her times are supposed to have been commemorated by more than one of those church pictures into which it was then customary to introduce likenesses of the donors and their families, especially the altar-piece of the Torelli Chapel by Marco Palmeggiani, still in the church of S. Girolamo at Forlì, which represents Caterina, her husband, and her two eldest sons kneeling before the enthroned Madonna. Another likeness is given in the preceding page from a rare medallion of the lady of Imola in her more matronly years, whose descendants still subsist in various princely houses, and in the noble family of Riario Sforza at Naples. This much of a heroine who will reappear at intervals in our pages.
The adhesion of Sixtus to the treaty which closed the Tuscan war was partly extorted by his terror of the Turks, whose progress in Europe, as yet, had met with no decided reverse. The energy and skill of Loredano had, indeed, kept them in check during the campaigns of 1474-5, but Venice found herself exhausted by efforts which, although of vital moment to Christianity, she was left to make single-handed. The following year was one of comparative repose, till in 1477, the Infidels, bursting those ramparts along the Isonzo by which the Republic considered her territories secured, scoured the rich plains of Friuli, and burned the mainland palaces of her citizens within sight of the capital. During 1478 Troia fell, and Scutari suffered a long and hopeless siege, whilst Sixtus was wasting in the Tuscan war those energies which, as head of the Church, he might have easily united against the victorious Crescent. After vainly protesting, and threatening the Pontiff with a general council, the Signory, in January, 1479, concluded with Mahomet II. a disastrous peace, at the sacrifice of all their recent conquests in the East.
The Venetians were now justly incensed at the Pope and Ferdinand, who had not only refused them aid in defending Western Europe from Turkish inroads, but had effectually prevented Florence from contributing its contingent for that purpose. With the King there was a further cause of quarrel, as he had concluded a treaty with the Sultan in the spring of 1478, recognising conquests wrested by him from their Republic. Renouncing the tardy and uncertain remedy of a general council, they sought more summary vengeance by inviting Mahomet to invade Lower Italy, and when, after a siege of thirteen days, the Crescent waved over the walls of Otranto, they so successfully diverted suspicions of this anti-Italian policy from themselves to his Holiness, that Ferdinand threatened to throw open to the Infidel a passage to Rome. The panic which now spread throughout Italy, and this imminent peril of the Holy See, at length forced the Pontiff to merge selfish considerations, and to make an effort in the common cause. Bulls exhorting all Christian princes to unity, were followed by diplomatic arrangements with the powers of Italy; and Sismondi is probably correct in ascribing to the terror of this crisis the Pope's tardy absolution of the Medici and their adherents, which we have already mentioned, and which was accompanied with a condition that Florence should send a fleet to the rescue of Otranto.
The dangers impending over his own kingdom occasioned Ferdinand to recall his son from Siena, and to invoke Federigo's services against the Turk. The latter, foreseeing danger from the ambitious energy of Mahomet, had already protested against the King's imprudence in leaving his coasts unprotected, while pursuing schemes of idle ambition in Tuscany; he hastened notwithstanding to obey the summons, but was stopped by an order from Sixtus to guard the ecclesiastical sea-board, menaced by an incursion from Scutari. To his counsels, however, was ascribed the ultimate recovery of Otranto, in order to effect which the Pontiff and Lorenzo de' Medici had hastily united with Ferdinand. Exactly a year after its capture that city was restored by its Moslem garrison, discouraged by the Sultan's death three weeks previously. Yet these events which, by ridding Italy of invasion, and closing the career of her most formidable foe, ought to have been hailed with unalloyed satisfaction, were soon found to infer new dangers, by promoting those internal distractions habitually fermented in the Peninsula during each interval of repose.