The life of Francesco Maria affords a remarkable instance of the extremes of fortune. He was deprived of parental care at an early age, when it was peculiarly desirable as a restraint upon his naturally fiery temper. Soon after, he was hurried from his hereditary state, and compelled to seek safety in France. In the outset of manhood, his ungoverned passion involved him in the stigma of a sacrilegious murder. Twice was he deprived of the influential sovereignty to which he had attained, and recovered it only after years of exile, and at a ruinous pecuniary sacrifice. The lustre of a brilliant position, and of a distinguished military career, was veiled by his utter failure to save or rescue Rome. Finally, he was snatched from life just as a new and nobler field was opening for his martial glories. Reversing the picture, we find a youth of ardent temperament, born to princely sway, and becoming at eighteen the heir of one uncle in an important duchy, and the favourite of another, who, by virtue of his triple tiara, conferred upon him yet a third state. A military hero ere he escaped from his teens, his renown ever extended with his age. Thirty years after his star had set, a Venetian ambassador called him the light and splendour of Italy; and notwithstanding some palpable blunders, he is still ranked with the first commanders of his native land. He died when his fame was at its height, and transmitted unquestioned to his son, that sovereignty which thrice had been wrested from him.
It is from posthumous influences that his reputation has suffered most severely; and the three standard historians of his times, in Italy, England, and France, have meted him sparing justice. Without questioning the value of Guicciardini's narrative as the fullest exposition of the age in which he lived, and the most graphic portraiture of many of its features and incidents, we must demur to the "fearless impartiality" too hastily allowed him in modern times. True, he was not, like Machiavelli, a practised intriguer, acute to detect perverted purpose, or prone to assume its existence; nor did he, like Giovio, employ the iron stylus of vengeance, or the golden pen of flattery, as passion might prompt or venality dictate. But, born a Florentine, and favoured by the Medici, he was the partisan of that house in the closet as in the field; and no one thus shackled could write impartially of Francesco Maria della Rovere. Roscoe, with similar predilections, though far less biased, had no inducement to become champion of a sovereign whom Leo X. had twice expelled; whilst Sismondi, enamoured of nominal republics, is ever ready to echo taunts or calumnies pointed at an Italian prince. The examination of many less popular historians, and of numerous unpublished contemporary authorities, has, we trust, enabled us to place this Duke's character and conduct in a more true light, without extenuating the manifest errors of either.
Though small in person, Francesco Maria was active and well formed, with a manly air, a quick eye, and an engaging presence. His manner and address were mild and pleasing, and his conversation was seasoned with lively jests. He was strict in religious observances, an enemy to blasphemous language, and intolerant of those insults to female honour with which war was then lamentably fraught. In the regulation of his army, as in the government of his state, justice was his ruling principle. Of his unhappy violence of temper we have already had too much reason to speak; it was the bane of his life, the blot on his fame. Yet he was generous and forgiving, as he proved by putting his personal enemy Guicciardini on his guard against the designs of San Severino, Count of Caiazzo, who, having suffered from the Florentine's captious allegations, had resolved to assassinate him.[38]
A soldier by education, taste, and long habit, his character should be judged by a military standard; and perhaps the best tribute to his glory consisted in the public rejoicings ordered by Sultan Solyman on hearing of his untimely death. In following the narrative of his campaigns, we have unsparingly pointed out the faults which seemed to cramp his success. They were obviously systematic, arising from an excess of that caution, which his natural prudence and foresight prompted, and which the examples of Fabius Maximus and Prospero Colonna in some degree authorised. Yet we must not overlook an important element of consideration, in the quality of troops under his command from 1523 to 1528. His want of confidence in them was avowed, and in more than one instance it was justified, when their steadiness was put to the test. Nor was he less fettered by the faulty organisation of that army, made up of various contingents under their respective leaders, without a responsible commanding officer, and in which civilians were allowed a veto fatal to unity of action. The verdict of his contemporaries may, however, be admitted as conclusive upon his military reputation. Ruscelli tells us that he was, by common consent, called the father and founder of the art of war, as practised in the sixteenth century; and the opinion of the only dissentient, Guicciardini, a private enemy and no soldier, is amply balanced by that of Giovanni de' Medici, who ranked him in skilful tactics, and in the arts of command, as well as in foresight and activity, equal to the ablest generals. The testimony of Charles V. has been already given; and we are assured that after a public disputation in Padua, sustained by men of the greatest learning, he was voted a match to any hero of antiquity, in judgment, experience, ingenuity, and military talent. Promis, with assuredly no friendly leaning, admits his great skill in military architecture, stating that he was often consulted by the principal engineers of Italy, and especially by Sanmichele, upon the fortifications of Corfu, regarding which that author attributes to him a Report to the Signory of Rome, now in the Ambrosian Library of Milan.[39] His opinion as to the defences of their lagoons, and principal garrisons on terra-firma, was, on various occasions, requested by that Republic, and during his command in Lombardy the towns of Lodi, Crema, Bergamo, Martinengo, and Orcinovo were all strengthened after his designs. Tartagli and Contriotto acknowledged their obligations to his suggestions; but Promis denies him the invention of baloards, as we have already seen, when writing of Francesco di Giorgio. The school of military engineering formed under his eye, during almost continual campaigns, numbered many distinguished professors of that art, among whom were Pietro Luigi Escriva, Gianbattista Bellucci, Nicolò Tartaglia, Girolamo Genga, Gian Giacomo Leonardi, and Jacopo Fusto Castriotto, the last three of whom were natives of his state.
But let us hear the evidence of contemporaries as to his character. Urbano Urbani, then his private secretary, thus describes him on succeeding to the dukedom:—"He was naturally low in stature, but well-proportioned, and of fine complexion. The short distance from his heart to his brain rendered his disposition choleric. Ever in movement, he was impatient of repose. Thoughtful, his ideas and discourse tended to lofty themes. Ready of hand, he dexterously managed, on horseback or afoot, the arms then in use. Of high courage, he invariably bent his mind to objects conducive to his honour and renown, especially in war. He was just, honest, averse to swearing, liberal, incorruptible, and no boaster. He loathed incontinence, and youthful excesses. In his household he was fond of splendour, and he generally entertained, in his almost regal court, a large attendance of distinguished gentlemen, such as Ottaviano Fregoso, Ludovico Pio, Gaspare Pallavicino, Giuliano de' Medici, Pietro Bembo, Baldassare Castiglione, Cesare Gonzaga (all of whom had been attached to his uncle Guidobaldo), Ambrogio Landriano, Febo da Cevi and his brother Gherardino, Filippino Doria, Benedetto Giraldi, and others conspicuous in arms, letters, or music; among whom Baldi names also Matteo della Branca, Carlo Gabrielli, Father Andreoni, Troiano and Gentile Carbonani, Count Gentile Ubaldini."[40]
Had his lot been cast in less turbulent times, it would have been his pride to maintain about him this goodly company, although he pretended not to his predecessor's literary tastes, and, if we may credit Sanuto, was unable to follow an oration delivered in Latin, on his arrival at Venice, in 1524. Yet, he was not indifferent to letters when connected with the engrossing occupation of his mind; and it was his habit, when time permitted, to have passages of ancient history read to him during several hours a day. This relaxation was varied by discussions arising out of these prelections, which he generally directed to military points, drawing out the opinions of his officers in attendance. Hence probably were suggested the Military Discourses, published in his name, of which we have already spoken; and various memorials of his conversation are preserved in a manuscript, which has supplied us with the anecdotes formerly quoted.[41] These were selected as illustrative of manners, from notes apparently made by a bystander; the others are almost exclusively upon military tactics and fortification, in which he was quite an adept.
Leonardi[42] confirms what we have stated of his character, dwelling much on his tendency to practical views. The sketch of Cristofero Centenelli must close these remarks:—"Though considered somewhat overbearing and hasty, he was at all times just. Even in youth, he was singularly self-denying of personal indulgences: guarding himself from the temptations of luxury and indolence, he sought daily occupation in the practice of arms, athletic sports, and equestrian exercises. He was liberal and magnificent, but grave and magnanimous; kind and affable to his friends, equitable and compassionate to his subjects. His courage was fiery and indomitable; of cold and heat, fatigue, watching, and privation, he was most enduring. He combined, to a rare degree, boldness in the field with prudence in the council-room, avoiding equally their extremes of temerity and timidity. To great skill in military discipline, he united uncommon perspicacity in discovering the snares of seeming friends or of open foes: astute with enemies, he was guarded with all. His eloquence commanded general admiration by its studied brevity, expressing the clearest views in fewest words."[43]
The Duke's constant and dutiful affection to his predecessor's widow deserves special notice. While she lived she shared his home, in prosperity or adversity, in sovereignty or in exile; and he occasionally availed himself of her prudence and popularity in the administration of the state during his absences. An interesting memorial of this filial affection is afforded by the following letter, which seems to have been written by Duchess Elisabetta.
"To the most illustrious Lord, my most esteemed Son, the Duke of Urbino, &c.
"The chair is so beautiful that neither words nor pen suffice to express my thanks for this proof of regard; but most heartily, and with all the good will it merits, I accept so handsome and gallant a gift, and I shall use it for your sake as long as God pleases: it is not less beautiful than dear to me. I have seen the news sent by the Count: he would have done better to sacrifice something than to lose all by his imprisonment. We expect you in the morning. The Duchess kisses your hands and your mouth, and I commend myself to you with eternal thanks.