CECILIA GONZAGA
A Little Italian Schoolgirl of the Renaissance
Part I.—A Dominican Educationist.
It was ever the custom of that most excellent Lord, Gianfrancesco Gonzaga, when he was home from his wars, to spend the hour before supper with his wife, and their children, in a fair loggia on a garden terrace overlooking the Mincio. Here, while the evening breeze came, cool from the lakes, and perfumed from the gardens, he tasted the delights of family life, and rested from the cares of War and State in the gentle atmosphere, which surrounded his pious and cultured Lady, Madonna Paola Malatesta.
Those who visit Mantua to-day may see, in the heart of its old Castello, in the celebrated Sala degli Sposi, just such another family scene, painted in fresco by Mantegna. It shows, it is true, a later generation of Gonzagas. Stately Marchese Lodovico, who sits in patriarchal dignity by the side of his wife, Marchesa Barbara, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, is, in the group I would fain conjure up for you, but a boy. At the risk of ruining the poetry of the scene, I must tell you that he is an extremely fat boy—oh! of a fatness, out of which he is to be presently most vigorously educated! His eight-year-old brother, Carlo, having outgrown his strength, is, on the other hand, far too lank and thin. But for the others, you are at liberty to call up the images of the dearest youngsters of your acquaintance. Margherita, a charming maiden of thirteen summers, whose betrothal to Leonello of Este, the heir of Marchese Niccolò of Ferrara, is already spoken of, might resent being called a “youngster.” But Gianlucido and Alessandro are tiny children; and golden-haired Cecilia, the flower of the flock, has reached the mature age of three!
This was the scene which met the eye of that most distinguished educationist, Vittorino da Feltre, who had come at the invitation of the Capitano of Mantua to undertake the education of these children; and as his eye fell upon it, he may well have felt all the doubts, that had ridden with him through all the long miles from Venice, suddenly depart. Indeed he had done well to come. Surely it was a task well worthy of a man’s noblest energies, to train up these fair children, and to make of them the men and women, in whom the Christian Humanist sees his ideals realised.
Who had been responsible for bringing Vittorino da Feltre to Mantua? Who had suggested to that bluff soldier, Gianfrancesco, eager to give his children all the benefits of the “New Learning,” for which Italy was madly athirst, the choice of a teacher, who was as great a Christian as he was a scholar and an educationist?
The accepted story is that Guarino, the great Greek scholar, being unable to accept the Gonzagas’ offer, himself, passed it on to his friend, Vittorino da Feltre. But I have my own good reasons for thinking that the choice of Vittorino was something more than a “pis aller,” and that Madonna Paola herself was mainly responsible for it.