After that time, according to one of the most rational as well as eloquent of the new dreamers after Italian nationality, "she underwent a rapid yet imperceptible decline; yet her sky smiled brightly as ever, her climate was as mild. A privileged land, removed from all cares of political existence, she went on with dances and music, happy in her ignorance, sleeping in the intoxication of incessant prosperity. Used to the scourge of invasion, the sons of the south took up again their guitars, wiped away their tears, and sang anew like a cloud of birds when the tempest is over."[26] This picture, drawn in bitterness, but not apparently in irony, paints the decline of Italy in colours more attractive than any we should have dared to employ; and we extract it chiefly for the sake of contrast with the same writer's ready admission that the liberty of the old republics was cradled amid convulsions of faction, which eventually exhausted their forces, or stifled their independence.
If the object of government be the greatest happiness of the masses, it seems, according to Mariotti, to have been more fully attained in Italy during the ages of foreign sway than in those of republican strife. Admitting in some degree, this conclusion, we accord a more hearty approval to the character he has elsewhere given of a state of matters worse, probably, in that land than either of these alternatives,—"that slow and silent disease, that atrabilious frenzy—politics—which pervades all ranks, exhibiting a striking contrast with the radiant and harmonious gaiety of heaven and earth."
Our notices of the court of Urbino have been suspended during a long interval from lack of materials. Indeed, the military duties of its head too well accounts for this deficiency of incident, rendering his domestic life a blank. Even the brief intervals when he could steal from the camp to the society of his Duchess, were passed in some neighbouring town, where she met him, or at Venice, where she made a lengthened sojourn, partly as a safer residence during the alarm consequent upon Bourbon's invasion, but in some degree as a guarantee for her husband to the suspicious government he served. These circumstances occasioned him prolonged absences from his state, of which his consort availed herself to prepare for him an agreeable surprise.
Immediately north-west from Pesaro rises the fertile slope of Monte Bartolo, near the summit of which, but sheltered from the keen sea-breeze, Alessandro Sforza fixed the site of a villa called Casartole. The Emperor Frederick III., when returning from his coronation at Rome, in January, 1469, was magnificently entertained by that Prince, and here laid the foundation of a casino, which in compliment to him was named the Imperiale. Its dimensions were, however, unequal to that imposing name, for, on the death of Giovanni Sforza, in 1510, it was valued at only 8000 ducats. Having devolved upon the Duke of Urbino, with the lordship of Pesaro, it was selected by the Duchess for a compliment to him, which may be best explained by the inscription she placed upon the building:—"For Francesco Maria, Duke of the Metaurian States, on his return from the wars, his consort Leonora has erected this villa, in token of affection, and in compensation for sun and dust, for watching and toil, so that, during an interval of repose, his military genius may here prepare for him still wider renown and richer rewards." To carry out this idea worthily, she summoned Girolamo Genga, of Urbino, one of the best architects of his time; and under his able superintendence the casino of the Sforza, distinguished from moderate country houses only by heraldic devices and a lofty bell-tower, was rapidly transformed into a handsome palace, which the pencil of Raffaele Colle was employed to decorate with its master's triumphs.
The site of this villa was admirably adapted as a residence for the sovereign of those broad lands it overlooked. It commanded every dwelling in the little city of Pesaro, though perfectly secluded from contact with its busy streets. The vale of the Isauro or Foglia lay in verdure before it, beyond which were the gardenlike slopes of Novilara, terminating in a varied landscape of hill and dale, which carried the gazer to the blue mountains of Gubbio. To the left spread the coast of Fano and Sinigaglia; to the right the high lands of Urbino were bounded by the Apennines of Carpegna and the isolated heights of San Marino. In a word, the Imperiale scanned the whole duchy of Urbino, of which it might, not inaptly, be considered the eye. The attractions of this princely retreat have been described with enthusiasm by Ludovico Agostini, who enjoyed them in their prime, and whose eulogies remain unedited in the Oliveriana Library. But they owe to the pen of Bernardo Tasso a worthier and wider celebrity, in his letter to Vincenzo Laureo, which sums up the advantages of the Villa by declaring that no place in Italy united with a temperate and healthful climate so many conveniences and enjoyable spots.
Of many laboured and costly productions of human ingenuity little remains there but saddening ruins.
The lofty oaks celebrated by Agostini have yielded to the axe; the grove which served as a game preserve has shared the same fate; the once innumerable pines and cypresses may be counted in units; the orange and lemon trees, the cystuses and myrtles have disappeared. Though even yet of imposing appearance, the building has undergone pitiable dilapidations. Almost every morsel of the marble carving has been carried off, and fragments may be purchased from the pawnbrokers of Pesaro. The frescoes, except that representing Francesco Maria receiving the adherence of his army, which seems the poorest in execution, are almost totally defaced. But that the saloons, where Bembo talked and Tasso sang, have been found well adapted for the culture of silkworms, the desolation, begun a century ago by Portuguese Jesuits, continued by a rabble soldiery, and permitted by its present proprietors the Albani, might ere now have been complete.
But while the works of man have thus by man been degraded, glorious nature remains unchanged. A few hundred paces lead to the summit ridge of Monte Bartolo, a spot rarely equalled even in this lovely land. To the vast prospect we have but now feebly described, there is here added a marine panorama, extending from the headland of Ancona to the Pineta of Ravenna, and including a boundless expanse of the sparkling Adriatic. A wanderer on that attractive coast, it has been my privilege to visit this unrivalled spot, and listlessly to survey the swan-like sails skimming the mighty mirror, wherein was reflected the deep indigo of an Italian sky, bounded along the horizon by that pearly haze gradually dissolving towards the blue zenith, which no painter but Perugino has been able to embody.
Of Duchess Leonora we know little.[*27] Unlike her predecessor, she had no courtly pen to transmit us her praises, no Bembo or Castiglione to celebrate the beauties of her person or the graces of her mind. She enjoys, however, one advantage over her Aunt Elisabetta; for in a speaking portrait by Titian, we may read much of her character, exempt from the vague flattery of such diffuse eulogists. Painted at that trying age when female beauty has exchanged its maiden charms for mature womanhood, the grave matronly air, the stiff contours and set features, with more of comely dignity than sternness in their general expression, attest fidelity in the likeness, and tally well with what we know of her temperament, and with the trials under which it must have been formed. There we may observe a composure calculated to moderate the fiery temper of her lord, a self-possession fitted to sustain him through his varied adversities. Her dress handsome rather than rich, her pose indicative of quietude, the spaniel watching by her side, the small time-piece on her table, are accessories adapted for one accustomed to pass the long intervals of her husband's absence rather in reflective solitude than in courtly pastimes.[28] To such a disposition the cares of maternity and her children's education afforded an ever pleasing resource, which she shared with the Dowager Duchess, an unfailing companion and friend, whose once lively spirits had been chastened by affliction into harmony with her temperament; but of this solace she was deprived by her death at Venice in January, 1526. In the autumn of 1529, Leonora, who administered the duchy in her husband's absence, received Clement at Pesaro, on his way to the coronation at Bologna, with a princely welcome and magnificent presents. In a letter which his Holiness took that opportunity to address to the Duke, he expresses gratitude for these, and for the attendance of the prince, "a youth of the highest hopes from his excellent dispositions, his modesty, and his natural inclination to literature, as well as his many estimable qualities." Whilst promising much favour to Guidobaldo, he compliments his father on the mild and equitable sway whereby the Duchess maintained his state in peace and tranquillity, and concludes with an apostolic blessing on him, his consort, and his son.