Federigo's dying requests were, that his nephew and confidential friend Ottaviano Ubaldini should charge himself with the care of his youthful heir, and that his body should be interred by that of his father in the parish church of S. Donato, a short distance eastward from Urbino. The funeral, though celebrated with
"Those rites which custom doth impose,"
was more remarkable for the heartfelt grief which attested the calamity fallen upon his people. His funeral oration, pronounced by Odasio, whom we shall afterwards find performing the like sad office to his son, is preserved in the Vatican, and has furnished us with some traits of his character. His body, duly embalmed, was enclosed in a marble sarcophagus in the new church of the Zoccolantines, which he left unfinished, close to that of S. Donato.[*207] Thirty years after his death, it was laid open by his grandson, Duke Francesco Maria, who reverently plucked a few hairs from his manly breast.[208] The tomb, thus strangely violated, remained open, and Baldi, who wrote in 1603, describes the corpse as still perfect, except a slight injury to the nose, and resembling a wooden figure, fleshless, and covered with white skin. It was attired after the fashion of Italy, in a gala dress of crimson satin and scarlet, with a sword by its side. Muzio tells us that he too had seen the body half a century before, when it was visited by Duke Guidobaldo II. and many of his people.
We may here notice six likenesses still preserving to us the form and fashion of that body, with which his people's posterity thus strangely held converse, beginning with, I. the [portraits of Federigo and his consort], painted in tempera by Piero della Francesca, now in the Uffizi gallery at Florence, which we reproduce. The individuality belonging alike to the features and the costumes could scarcely be doubted, even had we not historical authority for the Count's broken nose, and that of Giovanni Sanzi for Battista's "grave and modest eye," already more particularly mentioned at [page 218].[*209] The clear tone and enamel finish are admirable, notwithstanding a thick varnish, with which old tempera pictures are invariably dabbled, under the recent management of the Florence gallery. The panels are painted on both sides, the subjects on the reverse being triumphs of the two sovereigns in a style of mythological allegory then in fashion. On a car drawn by two milk-white steeds with docked tails, driven by Cupid, [Federigo sits on a curule chair], in full armour, pointing forward with his truncheon, and holding a helmet on his knee, whilst a winged Victory, standing behind, crowns him with a garland. On the front of the car ride four female figures, one of whom, representing Force, has in her arms a broken Corinthian column; another, emblematic of Prudence, is placed in the centre of the group, holding a mirror in her hand; her face, bright with youthful hope, looks in advance to the future, and the profile or mask of a bearded and wrinkled old man, affixed to the back of her Janus head, contemplates the past with matured experience; a metaphor closely followed by Raffaele for his Jurisprudence in the Stanza della Segnatura. Justice is introduced with her scales and two-edged sword; and the fourth figure is scarcely seen. The distant country, in this as in the others of these pictures, shows that their author was unable to apply to landscape the excellence in linear perspective displayed by his architectural designs. [Countess Battista's triumph] is similarly treated; but her car is drawn by bay unicorns, types of purity, and she sits on a chair of state, splendidly attired, with an open book on her knee. Behind her a bright maiden, meant probably for Truth, contrasts with an elderly female in semi-monastic dress who may be intended for
|
"A pensive nun, devout and pure, Sober, steadfast, and demure, All in a robe of darkest grain, Flowing with majestic train, And ashy stole of Cyprus lawn Over her decent shoulders drawn." |
On the front of the car, Faith, with cross and chalice, sits by Religion, on whose knee the pelican feeds her young, emblematic of the Saviour's love for mankind. Under each of these allegorical paintings is a strophe of Sapphic measure, which may be thus rendered:—
"In gorgeous triumph is borne the hero, whom enduring fame worthily celebrates as a sovereign, equalling in his virtues the greatest generals.
"Thus conducted amid her prosperity, and illustrated by the laurels of her mighty husband's deeds, her name circles in the mouths of mankind."[210]
II. Our next [portrait of this Duke] was probably obtained by the Barberini family at the devolution of Urbino to the Holy See, about 1630, and remains in their palace at Rome. It is on a three-quarters panel, life size, in full armour, wearing the ducal mantle of crimson flowered with gold, and an ermine cape. From his neck hangs the order of the Ermine, and below his left knee is the Garter. The ducal cap of yellow silk, thickly studded with pearls, hangs on a tall lectern in front of his armchair. He holds a crimson book, and reads from it to his son, standing by his knee, in a yellow frock richly jewelled, a sceptre in the boy's right hand. This head and figure have been copied by Clovio, in an illuminated volume which we shall describe in [VI. of the Appendix]; and although ascribed to Mantegna, they may rather be a work of Piero della Francesca (if I may form an opinion after the single visit and distant inspection allowed me in 1845 by its jealous owner), but always with the proviso that that able artist's blindness[*211] had not supervened in 1478, when, from the prince's age, this picture must have been done. We have no notice of Mantegna having been at Urbino, although this is probable, from Sanzi's admiration of him.[212]