The Project Gutenberg eBook, Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino, Volume III (of 3), by James Dennistoun

Transcriber's Note

This work was originally published in 1851. As [noted in the original], footnotes marked by an asterisk were added by the editor of the 1909 edition, from which this e-book was prepared.

Obvious printer errors have been corrected without note.

Certain spelling inconsistencies have been made consistent; for example, variants of Michelangelo's last name have been changed to Buonarroti. Archaic spellings in English and Italian have been retained as they appear in the original.

Full-page illustrations have been moved so as not to break up the flow of the text.

[CONTENTS]
[ILLUSTRATIONS]

MEMOIRS OF THE
DUKES OF URBINO

ILLUSTRATING THE ARMS, ARTS
& LITERATURE OF ITALY, 1440-1630

BY JAMES DENNISTOUN OF DENNISTOUN

A NEW EDITION WITH NOTES
BY EDWARD HUTTON
& OVER A HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS
IN THREE VOLUMES. VOLUME THREE

LONDON JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMIX

WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD., PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH

Anderson

FRANCESCO MARIA II. DELLA ROVERE,
DUKE OF URBINO

After the picture by Baroccio in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence

[CONTENTS]

[BOOK SIXTH]
(Continued)
OF FRANCESCO MARIA DELLA ROVERE,
FOURTH DUKE OF URBINO

[BOOK SEVENTH]
OF GUIDOBALDO DELLA ROVERE,
FIFTH DUKE OF URBINO

[BOOK EIGHTH]
OF FRANCESCO MARIA II. DELLA ROVERE,
SIXTH AND LAST DUKE OF URBINO

[BOOK NINTH]
OF LITERATURE AND ART UNDER THE
DUKES DELLA ROVERE AT URBINO

[APPENDICES]

[ILLUSTRATIONS]

[CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE]

[CHAPTER XXXIX]

[CHAPTER XL]

[CHAPTER XLI]

[CHAPTER XLII]

[CHAPTER XLIII]

[CHAPTER XLIV]

[CHAPTER XLV]

[CHAPTER XLVI]

[CHAPTER XLVII]

[CHAPTER XLVIII]

[CHAPTER XLIX]

[CHAPTER L]

[CHAPTER LI]

[CHAPTER LII]

[CHAPTER LIII]

[CHAPTER LIV]

[CHAPTER LV]

[APPENDICES]

[MEMOIRS OF THE
DUKES OF URBINO—III]

Note.—The Editor's notes are marked with an asterisk.

[BOOK SIXTH]
(continued)
OF FRANCESCO MARIA DELLA ROVERE,
FOURTH DUKE OF URBINO

[MEMOIRS OF THE
DUKES OF URBINO]

[CHAPTER XXXIX]

Causes which led to the sack of Rome—The assault—Death of Bourbon—Atrocities of his soldiery—The Duke of Urbino’s fatal delays—The Pontiff’s capitulation and escape—Policy of the Emperor.

OUR narrative of little interesting campaigns has now brought us to an event unparalleled in the horrors of modern warfare, by which the laws of nature, the dictates of humanity, the principles of civilisation were alike outraged. The sack of Rome inflicted a dire retribution for the restless shuffling that had disgraced the temporal policy of recent pontiffs; it was the crowning mischief to a long agony of ultramontane aggression; and in it was spent one of the last mighty waves of barbarian aggression that broke upon the Italian Peninsula.

Such are the difficulties in the way of a just and satisfactory judgment as to the causes which led to this outrage, that it may be well to review these, even at the risk of some recapitulation. The total demoralisation of Bourbon's army, the want of good understanding between him and other imperial leaders in Italy, the absence of zeal or common interests among the confederate powers and their officials, with the prevailing bad faith of all parties, form a combination of elements baffling to the historian as it must have been to the actors themselves. The petty motives and feeble measures of the Pontiff have already been amply exposed. Francis and the Venetians had originally entered the strife only from selfish views upon Lombardy, which they pursued without attempting any comprehensive or efficient operations, and, as soon as the storm had passed by them, their languor became indifference. Charles cared little for Italy, or the ill-defined claims of the Empire upon it, except as a fair field for aggrandising or securing, by intrigue or by arms, his already exorbitant dominions, and he left his officers there pretty much to their own discretion in the maintenance of his interests. His successive viceroys at Naples, perceiving the policy of Clement to be inherently adverse to their master's interests, were ever ready to annoy his frontier, or to cajole him away from the Lombard league. The Constable, finding that the cautious tactics of the Duke of Urbino kept his own movements in check, and impeded his appeasing with pillage a reckless host whom he could not pay, was ready to adopt any enterprise that might ensure occupation and plunder to his dangerous bands, not doubting that, whoever might suffer, success would justify him with the Emperor, to whose glory it must ultimately redound.

As soon as the Pope had ratified the truce of the 15th March, he, with an infatuation which even an empty treasury can ill excuse, dismissed two thousand of the bande nere who garrisoned Rome. A Swiss corps withdrew at the same time, on his refusal of their monthly pay in advance. When the imperialists drew southward, his chief care was for Florence, and, on hearing of the insurrection there, he sent one of his chamberlains to acknowledge Francesco Maria's good service, adding a vague hope that, in the event of Bourbon threatening Rome, he would contribute counsel and aid for its safety. In reply, the Duke recommended that Viterbo, and Montefiascone should be secured, and Rome suitably defended by Renzo da Ceri and Orazio Baglioni, suggesting that his Holiness might betake himself to the strongholds of Orvieto or Civita Castellana: with these precautions, he added that an early and innocuous conclusion of the inroad would ensue, as the enemy, when shut out from plunder of the towns, must quickly disperse. But these counsels came too late, and, with a foolhardiness and folly savouring of judicial blindness, the Pontiff remained in the comfortable conviction that Bourbon would take up his quarters at Siena, on the representations of Lannoy.[*1] It was only about the 25th that his impending danger first dawned upon him. Rome had then, of regular troops, but two hundred foot and a few light cavalry, besides the Swiss guard, and the only officer of rank was Renzo da Ceri, whose personal courage and military capacity were in equal disrepute, and of whom Clement had on various occasions spoken with contempt. Yet upon this broken reed did he place his sole reliance for the defence of his capital. He commanded the weak points of the walls to be repaired and strictly guarded, distributing the artillery where most required. He pressed above three thousand men into his service; but these hasty levies were of the most useless description, composed of artizans, servants, and the scum of the population, "more used to handle kitchen spits and stable forks than military weapons." Resorting to fanatical expedients, he proclaimed a plenary remission of their sins to such as should fall in the sacred struggle. But the greatest difficulty was to raise money for these purposes: the wealthy classes were so absorbed in egotism and luxury, so deluded by false security, that they would contribute nothing. Domenico de' Massini, one of the richest of them, would lend but a hundred ducats, a refusal for which he and his family paid bitterly in the sack. On the 11th of April, Girolamo Negri, a shrewd observer, wrote that the papal court had become a barn-yard of chickens, and that, though each day gave more manifest signs of evil times, every one relied on the Viceroy's mediation, failing which all would be lost.

At this juncture there appeared in Rome one of those strange fanatics whose mysterious aspect and unearthly character, taking strong hold of the popular imagination at particular crises, impart a supernatural character to their wild and dismal vaticinations. He was an aged anchorite, who, fancying himself another Jonah, had long attracted street audiences by vague declamations of coming convulsions, and, as the peril became imminent, warned the anxious people that a total revolution in church and state, and the ruin of the priesthood, were at hand. Rushing along the thoroughfares, he preached, with piercing voice and excited gesticulation, a general penitence and humble reliance on the offended Deity, as the only shelter from the impending storm. He even forced his way to the presence of his Holiness, and, in the midst of the court, repeated gloomy warnings and stern denunciations in harsh words seldom heard in such high places. "But," in the words of an old writer, "repentance is an irksome sound to the ears of hardened sinners," and "more is required to make a saint than sackcloth raiment, a crucifix, and philippics against vice"; so the prophet was committed to prison, to continue his preaching to a more limited audience. Yet it needed no stretch of superstition to regard the sack of Rome, with its accumulated horrors, as a Divine judgment. The gross vices which disgraced the papacy towards the close of the preceding century had, indeed, been considerably modified; but, as the reformation was rather in decency than in morals, it had not greatly influenced the people of Rome: the poison, though counteracted at the core, continued to circulate through the branches. In truth, the hearts of all were so indurated, and their judgment so blinded by pleasures, debaucheries, avarice, and ambition, that the forebodings of enthusiasts, and the many portentous omens of evil that occurred about the same time, were equally disregarded. Among these were, of course, blood-red suns and fiery meteors; but it was afterwards remembered that two aged men with long beards had been observed to stride solemnly along the chief thoroughfares of the city, bearing a large empty bag, and exclaiming at intervals with dolorous solemnity, "Behold the sack!"[2]

The measures of the government, superficial as they were, generated false security; and a general muster of the citizens which returned thirty thousand as capable of bearing arms, tended to confirm the fatal delusion. The Pope gave currency to it by setting forth on all occasions the reduced state of the imperialist army, the proximity of that of the league, and above all insisted that the invaders, being for the most part Lutherans, were no doubt conducted by Providence, to undergo a signal punishment for their heresies under the very walls of the Christian metropolis. To such a height was this foolhardiness carried, that the messenger, who arrived on the 3rd of May to demand free passage to Naples, was dismissed by Renzo with the threat of a cannon-ball at his head; and on the following day the Datary wrote to Count Guido Rangone, that a reinforcement of six or eight hundred men would suffice for defence of the city. But ere the messenger was well clear of the gate, the enemy were before it.[3]

The inhabitants, at length aroused to their danger by the presence of an army whom they supposed at Siena, were thrown into general panic, though some were so blinded as to suppose it the advanced guard of the confederates. Even now, bold and judicious expedients might have defended the walls until the arrival of the allies, whose first division actually reached the Porta Salara the same day on which the city was taken; and had the bridges been previously cut, as was urged upon Renzo in consideration of the weak defences of the Borgo S. Spirito, the principal portion of the city might have held out, even after these had been carried, whilst the Duke of Urbino would have had leisure to execute signal vengeance upon the ruffian invaders, demoralised by their leader's fall and by the pillage of its Transteverin quarters.

It is by no means easy to form an idea of the actual force of the invading army from the varying estimates that have come down to us. Muratori, who bestowed much attention upon such military statistics, reckons the troops whom Bourbon carried from Milan at about five thousand Spaniards, four thousand Germans, and half as many Italians, besides five hundred men-at-arms, two thousand German cavalry, and an indefinite number of light horse, to whom were soon united the lansquenets of Fründesberg, originally fourteen thousand, but already somewhat reduced. This would give a total of twenty-six or twenty-seven thousand men, which exceeds by a few thousand infantry the calculation adopted by Giacomo Buonaparte, his multiplication of the men-at-arms by ten being obviously an accidental error. The same author supposes that the Imperialists who had marched from Montevarchi were about twenty thousand Germans, eight thousand Spaniards, three thousand Italians, with but six hundred horse. The impression current at Rome, and in the confederate camp, that Bourbon brought from forty to fifty thousand men before that city was therefore grossly exaggerated; indeed, some authorities diminish his effective force to half that number, while Buonaparte esteems it under thirty thousand. The allied army, according to Baldi, was twenty thousand strong, of whom one fifth were cavalry: but it, too, had melted away when mustered at Isola, as we shall in due time see. On the whole, it appears that the inequality of numbers was not such as to justify the Fabian tactics, or it may be the petted policy, of Francesco Maria.

On Sunday, the 5th of May, the Constable bivouacked in the meadows north-west of the city, having approached it without crossing the Tiber. He repeated by trumpet his summons in name of the Emperor for free passage to Naples; an idle insult, considering that the way beneath the walls lay open for him. He then explained to a council of his officers the perilous state of affairs,—the troops fatigued, starving, mutinous, with a powerful enemy pressing upon their rear, and the richest metropolis of Europe ill-defended before them, urging that there was no alternative but that night to conquer its effeminate citizens, or next day be cut to pieces by the allied host. But, finding these representations received with cold indifference, he at dusk repeated them to the whole army in an energetic harangue, which he concluded by assuring them he had received, through Cardinal Colonna, assurances of support from the Ghibelline party within the city.

Ere the morrow's dawn his army was in motion, and, under cover of a singularly dense fog, approached the city between the modern gates of Cavallegieri and S. Pancrazio. The wall was there pierced by a loop-hole, serving as the window of a small and slightly built house that formed part of the defences; below it was another aperture into the cellar. These vulnerable points, which had been unpardonably overlooked by the papal engineers, were quickly noticed by the enemy, who brought the few guns they possessed to bear upon them, and soon effected a small breach. The exact site is loosely and contradictorily described as between one of the gates and the tower of S. Spirito, near Cardinal Mellini's, or Ermellini's, garden. Meanwhile the besiegers, protected by the mist from the guns of S. Angelo, vigorously attacked various points; and on the heights above the Strada Giulia, two Spanish colours were wrested from them. The walls and substructions now visible on that side, and those which separate the Lungara from the Borgo S. Spirito, are all of later date; and in constructing them, sixteen years subsequently, the aspect of the localities has been so changed as to baffle accurate comparison with descriptions of the assault. If we can suppose the external wall to have run from near the Porta S. Spirito towards that of S. Pancrazio, instead of being carried, as at present, along the Janicular ridge from the Porta Cavallegieri, it might be comparatively easy to reconcile these statements. At all events, it is certain that considerable resistance was made by some citizens who occupied the Campo Santo or burying ground, which then lay just outside of the gate from S. Spirito into the Lungara, and which, according to a mural inscription there, was removed in 1749 to its present site farther up the hill. This, being the brunt of the battle, was occupied by Bourbon, whose exertions throughout the morning had been unremitting. Whilst steadying a ladder with his left hand, and cheering on his men with his right, he was struck to the ground by a bullet which passed through his thigh. The credit of that lucky shot, which cut short a career commenced in treason, closed in sacrilege, is claimed by Benvenuto Cellini. He tells us that on hieing to the Campo Santo with two comrades, he beheld from the walls the enemy assaulting the spot where they stood; whereupon they discharged their pieces in terror, he aiming at a figure singled out in the mist from its commanding height. Having mustered courage to peep over the wall, he saw a great confusion occasioned by the Constable's fall, and, fleeing with his friends through the cemetery, escaped by St. Peter's to the castle of S. Angelo.[*4] This assertion, which has generally passed for gasconade, receives support from the Vatican MS., wherein the shot is ascribed to some silversmith lads who, from the Mount of the Holy Crucifix, aimed at the general's white mantle and plume; and a monumental tablet outside the Church of S. Spirito commemorates Bernardino Passeri, goldsmith and jeweller to Clement and his two predecessors, who was killed on the 6th of May, on the adjoining part of the Janicular, after slaying many of the enemy, and capturing a standard. About five hundred paces to the west of that reach of the modern city wall which commands the Cavallegieri gate, there stands on the road to the Fornaci a small oratory, called the Capella di Barbone, and pointed out by tradition as the spot where Bourbon was wounded. No account, however, which I have seen, countenances the idea of his having fallen so far away; nor is it possible, even when no mist intervenes, to see either that point, or the site of the present exterior city wall, from the old cemetery of S. Spirito, whence the fatal shot appears to have been aimed. But from whatever spot or hand it proceeded, the wound was mortal, and the Constable died in his thirty-ninth year, ere he could witness the desecration or share the booty to which he had stimulated his followers. Yet had God's just judgment on the traitor been withheld for a time, his influence might, perhaps, have stayed the fury of the soldiery, and Rome might have been spared some portion of the misery that ensued. His body was carried to Gaeta, and his armour is still shown at the Vatican, a plain coat of immense strength. It, however, bears an indentation on the inner side of the right thigh, where the fatal bullet entered after grazing its steel edge.[5]

For a moment his troops wavered, dismayed by their leader's fall; but revenge and a consciousness of their perilous position rendered them desperate. The assertion of Mambrino Roseo, that the Swiss guard disputed every inch of the breach until only a drummer was left alive, wants confirmation from those narratives of eye-witnesses which I have examined. Be this as it may, it was about half-past eight that the first detachment, who had made their way into the Borgo, were observed by Renzo da Ceri. Instead of cutting them down with the body of horse who followed him, he in a loud voice gave the sauve qui peut, and, galloping round by the Ponte Sisto, reached that of S. Angelo, where he recklessly crushed and trod down the citizens, already rushing across it in masses to the castle.[*6] Had this craven caitiff rallied his men to the breach, it might have been repaired; and had he but held the Porta Settimiana, or even now cut the lower bridges, the invaders would have been confined within a small district of the city, until Guido Rangone arrived with succours.

The panic thus originated by the city's defender spread rapidly in all quarters. The Pontiff, who, from his chair in S. Peter's, had been thundering spiritual menaces against the foe, was hurried along the covered passage to S. Angelo, whither also flocked the cardinals, clergy, and citizens of all ranks, in such crowds that it was found impossible to close the gates. At length the portcullis was dropped, with great difficulty from its rusty condition, and several cardinals, who had been excluded, were afterwards drawn up in baskets. The terrified crowd who were thus shut out, rushed to escape by the city gates, but, finding these closed, they dispersed themselves among the palaces of the Ghibelline cardinals, upon which they vainly relied as sure asylums.

About three thousand got into the castle, with fourteen cardinals. It was very ill supplied with provisions, and the neighbouring shops were hurriedly emptied of whatever stores they contained. The Pontiff, in his alarm, would have attempted flight, but Bourbon's death inspired him with some hope of making terms. In fact, the besiegers, who had at first rushed in with cries of "Hurrah for Spain! slay! slay!" soon paused, discouraged by the loss of their leader, and anticipating a desperate resistance. In this state of matters, the Portuguese ambassador was authorised by his Holiness to propose an accommodation to the imperialist chiefs, who, finding themselves in possession of but a fraction of the city, with walls and gates on either side excluding them from the S. Spirito and Trastevere quarters, temporised for some hours. But as the bulk of their army entered at S. Pancrazio, and they ascertained the panic in the town, their misgivings passed away, and about two hours before sunset they suddenly advanced through the Porta Settimiana, in Via Lungara. Encouraged by its defenceless state, they pushed across the Ponte Sisto, which they found equally unguarded, and spread like a deluge over the devoted city.

Now began the horrors of the sack. The brutal soldiery, absolved from discipline, scoured the city at will, penetrating unchallenged into the most secret and most sacred places.[*7] Churches and convents, palaces and houses, were invaded and rifled; resistance was punished with fire and sword; rape and murder were the fate of the inhabitants. Passing over details too revolting for the imagination to supply, but too repulsive for a place in these pages, we may cite the feeling exclamations of one who seems to have witnessed them:—"Alas! how many courtiers, gentlemen, and prelates, how many devout nuns, matrons, and maidens became a prey to these savages! What chalices, images, crucifixes, vessels of silver and gold, were torn from the altars by these sacrilegious hands! What holy relics were dashed to the ground with derisive blasphemy by these brutal Lutherans! The heads of Saints Peter, Paul, Andrew, and of many others, the wood of the sacred Cross, the blessed oil, and the sacramental wafers, were ruthlessly trodden upon. The streets exhibited heaps of rich furniture, vestments, and plate, all the wealth and splendour of the Roman court, pillaged by the basest ruffians."[8]

After these miserable scenes had endured for three days, rumours of the Duke of Urbino's approach recalled the imperialist leaders to the necessity of defence.[*9] The command having devolved upon the Prince of Orange, a yellow-haired barbarian, further plunder was prohibited, under severe penalties; and the army, reduced to comparative order, betook themselves to enjoy their booty. But now a new drama of atrocities opened. The Germans had especially distinguished themselves by a thirst for blood, but the wily Spaniards taught them a means more effectual than murder of enriching themselves and punishing their victims. The prisoners had, in most cases, concealed whatever of greatest value they possessed, and recourse was had to every variety of torment in order to extract from them supposed treasures, and a ransom for their lives; so that those who had been spared in seeming mercy found themselves but reserved for a worse fate. After stripes and blows had been exhausted, when hunger and thirst had failed to force compliance, tortures the most brutal succeeded. Some were suspended naked from their own windows by a sensitive limb, or swung head downwards, and momentarily threatened to be let drop into the street. Others had their teeth drawn slowly and singly, or were compelled to swallow their own mutilated and roasted members. Others were forced to perform the most odious and menial services; and the greatest extremities were always used towards those who were suspected of being the most wealthy and noble. Even after the desired amount of gold had been thus extorted from them, their sufferings were sometimes resumed at the instance of new tormentors. When such cruelties palled, their inflictors had recourse to a novel amusement, by forcing from the victims a confession of their sins; and we are assured by the narrator of these enormities, himself a Roman, that the iniquities thus brought to light, as habitual in that dissolute capital, were such as to confound even the licentious soldiery of Bourbon. Over the outrages committed upon the women we draw a veil: when lust was satiated, they were prolonged in diabolical punishment, the husbands and fathers being compulsory witnesses to such unspeakable atrocities.

But the delight of these sacrilegious villains, especially of the German Lutherans, was to outrage everything holy. The churches and chapels, including the now bloodstained St. Peter's, were desecrated into stables, taverns, or brothels; and the choirs, whence no sounds had breathed but the elevating chant of prayer and praise, rang with base ribaldry and blasphemous imprecations. The grand creations of religious art were wantonly insulted or damaged; the reliquaries and miraculous images were pillaged or defaced. Nay, a poor priest was inhumanly murdered for his firm refusal to administer the blessed sacrament to an ass. Nor was any respect paid to persons or party feelings. The subjects of the Emperor who happened to be in Rome, the adherents of the Colonna and other Ghibelline leaders, were all involved in the general fate. Four cardinals attached to that faction had declined entering S. Angelo, calculating that they would not only

"Guide the whirlwind and direct the storm,"

but peradventure, promote their own interests in the mêlée. They were, however, miserably mistaken, for they, too, were held to ransom; and one of them (Aracoeli), after being often led through the streets tied on a donkey, behind a common soldier, was carried to church with mock funereal rites, when the office of the dead was read over his living body, and an oration pronounced, wherein, for eulogy, were loathsomely related all the real or alleged immoralities of his past life. Another outrage in especial repute with the Germans, was a ribald procession, in which some low buffoon in sacred vestments was borne shoulder-high, scattering mock benedictions among the mob, amid shouts of "Long live Luther!"

A great portion of the circulating wealth of the city was centred in the Strada de' Banchi, which, from being in a line with the castle and just across the river, was considered comparatively secure. But this fallacious hope quickly vanished, and during five hours that quarter of bankers, merchants, and jewellers was savagely sacked in sight of the papal court. In one of these shops a large money bag being discovered, a general scramble ensued for its contents, and forty-two of the soldiery lost their lives at their comrades' hands, fighting for what proved to be counterfeit coin. The Jews, who were not then enclosed in the Ghetto, suffered a full share of such miseries, to make them disgorge their secret treasures. Vast multitudes of citizens took refuge in the palaces of the cardinals and principal nobility, especially of those supposed to be friendly to the imperial interests; but these asylums were seldom respected. That of the Cancelleria, originally built by Cardinal Pietro Riario, and still one of the most spacious in the capital, was long spared; but on the 20th of May its turn came; and as it was the last to be pillaged, the outrages perpetrated upon its miserable inmates, including numerous ecclesiastical and diplomatic dignitaries, with a crowd of the high-born beauties of Rome, were perhaps the most signal and sanguinary of all. In other palaces the fugitives, though spared from violence, were held to ransom. The Dowager Marchioness of Mantua purchased immunity for her residence with 10,000 ducats, which the merchants whom it sheltered joined in paying, and which her son Ferdinando, one of the imperial leaders, was said to have basely shared. In the Vatican MS. is a backbond, signed by about five hundred persons, who had sought refuge in the palace of Cardinal Andrea della Valle, obliging themselves to repay, in sums varying from 10 to 4000 scudi each, the ransom of 40,000 ducats which he had advanced. Among the names is the King of Cyprus, and, what may have more interest for us, that of Peter Hustan from Scotland. The English Cardinal of St. Cecilia, Thomas Usher, Archbishop of York, was one of those who escaped into the castle.

But where, meanwhile, was the army of the League?[*10] The Duke of Urbino, after quelling the insurrection at Florence, had lingered there for some days at the instance of the Cardinal Legate, who represented to him that Rome was amply provided with means of defence. Yet, upon learning Bourbon's advance, the confederates despatched Guido Rangone from Incisa, where their army lay, to anticipate by forced marches his arrival at that capital. Taking five thousand light infantry of the bande nere, with a large force of cavalry, he pushed on, and at Otricoli met the Datary's foolish missive of the 4th of May, which, declining further relief, asked for but a few hundred troops as enough for the wants of the city. The Count, however, paid no attention to this news, and, hurrying across the Campagna, heard near the Ponte Salara that the enemy had that morning penetrated the walls. Had he but known the real state of the army, or by a headlong dash risked his all in the noble enterprise, his name would have been honoured as the saviour of Rome. But his genius was unequal to the opportunity, and he retired to Otricoli to await the arrival of his chiefs.

The Duke at length aroused himself, and moved rapidly forwards. On the 3rd he quitted Florence, and at Cortona separated the army into two divisions for facilitating the commissariat. One he led by Perugia, the other, under Saluzzo, took the Val di Chiana, with a common rendezvous at Orvieto.[*11] He was at the lake of Thrasimene on the day Rome fell, and arrested his march at Perugia to effect once more a revolution there, by substituting his friend Orazio Baglioni for Gentile, a partisan of the Medici. Santori justly observes, that "in the Duke of Urbino the desire of avenging old injuries was suspected to have prevailed over zeal for the honour of Italy and the safety of Rome": indeed, this ill-timed gratification of an old grudge cost several precious days. On the 9th, his advanced guard were met at Casalino on the Tiber by a fugitive from Rome with news of the fall of that city, and again halted. Thus it was the 16th ere he joined the other division of the army at Orvieto, where it had preceded him by five days, and whence, after cruelly sacking Città della Pieve, which refused supplies, he sent on a strong party of two thousand foot and five hundred horse to carry off the Pope. It was commanded by Federigo da Bozzolo, whose gallantry well qualified him for such an attempt; but his horse having unfortunately fallen upon him near Viterbo, disabling him entirely, the command of the expedition devolved upon a subaltern, who, finding it daylight ere he came in sight of S. Angelo, and his orders being for a night attack, retraced his steps without communicating with the castle.

Three days were now passed in consultations among the leaders, of which we have varying accounts. Guicciardini of course represents them in the most unfavourable light for Francesco Maria.[*12] He tells us that neither the letters of the Pontiff, nor the entreaties of the Proveditori and the French general, could rouse the Duke's stubborn nature to active measures; and he describes him as full of zeal in words and proposals, but ever interposing obstacles to the execution of any definite plan. On the other hand, Baldi asserts that an onward movement, suggested by the Duke at Isola,[*13] was, to his great regret, overruled by these authorities, and by Guicciardini himself; whilst the Bishop of Cagli[14] pleads as his excuse for inaction, that the Venetians, finding their duty very different from field-days and muster-rolls, refused to follow him, and even retired home in great numbers. But, assuming the truth of the last averment, should not the blame of such lax discipline attach to the general who had led these troops through several campaigns? and may not the moral paralysis which impeded effective tactics in the army be fairly adduced in mitigation of their unauthorised furloughs?

At length an advance was agreed upon, and on the 20th the head-quarters were at Isola di Farnese, nine miles from Rome, the Duke having marched by Nepi, and Saluzzo by Bracciano. Here distracted counsels again prevailed, and, in answer to urgent representations of his confederates, that the Pope must at all hazards be relieved, Francesco Maria ordered a muster of the army, which showed twelve to fifteen thousand men. Letters to the same purpose arriving from the Signory, and a message declaring that Clement had broken off a negotiation with his oppressors on the strength of speedy assistance, he at length consented that Rangone should once more attempt to bring off his Holiness, by leading a division to Monte Mario, whilst he advanced to his support with the main body as far as Tre Capanne. But on pretext of making a previous examination of the ground, he wasted so much time, that night had fallen when they reached that place; and the expedition being thereby delayed until morning, a general feeling then prevailed that the force was inadequate, and the troops were thereupon withdrawn. An even less creditable version of this evolution is given by an eye-witness in the Duke's service, who attributes as its motive the seizure of a quantity of booty, which had been removed from Rome to Monte Rotondo; adding that, on seeing signal fires over the Campagna, and hearing a vague rumour that the enemy were approaching in force, the Duke suddenly faced about and regained his quarters, his men in sad plight, and the rear stripped to their shirts by some skirmishers.[15]

In order to cut short such discreditable scenes, the Duke, at a council of war, announced his resolution to attempt no offensive operations until his army should be recruited by fifteen thousand Swiss, some ten thousand other troops, and forty pieces of cannon, with ample funds for their pay; adding that, as S. Angelo was provisioned for three months, there would be sufficient time for raising these reinforcements. This opinion he embodied in a memorial, which he sent on the 30th from Isola, by the Bishop of Asti, to Francis I. It is preserved by Baldi, and in Sermonetta's Letters, and offers a verbose, laboured, and inconclusive defence of his drivelling tactics. The burden of it is the inferiority of the allied force to the enemy, the probable failure of aggressive movements, and an urgent appeal that the King should come in person, as the only means of giving unanimity to a council in which each desired to lead. Indeed, the whole proceedings of the army attest the mutual jealousies and disunion of its leaders, which form the best justification of the Duke's dilatory measures, amid difficulties which he had not energy or decision to overcome.

The Pontiff, thus abandoned to his fate, learned by bitter experience,

On the 18th he wrote to the Duke of Urbino, "amid these calamities and perils," begging a safe-conduct for a messenger as far as Siena, to induce Lannoy to repair to Rome, the envoy selected for this mission being Bernardo, father of Torquato Tasso. The Viceroy willingly responded to this summons, hoping to succeed Bourbon in command of the imperialists. But finding the Prince of Orange already chosen by the army to that post, he in disgust kept aloof from the capitulation, which was signed on the 5th of June, by the intervention of Gattinara. Its principal stipulations were these: 1. A safe-conduct to Naples for his Holiness, and such of the cardinals as chose to go, upon payment of 150,000 golden scudi, two thirds whereof within six days, the remainder on the expiry of twenty. 2. Security for the personal property within the castle, upon payment of as much more, for which hostages were to be given until it could be raised by a general impost or otherwise. 3. The removal of all censures from the Colonna, and their restoration to their estates and dignities. 4. The immediate surrender of S. Angelo, Civita Vecchia, Ostia, and Civita Castellana, with the further cession of Parma, Piacenza, and Modena to the Emperor, as an inducement for the army to evacuate Rome. This treaty was signed by nine cardinals, four bishops, and eighteen imperialist officers, and the castle was forthwith consigned to a guard of the invaders, in whose hands the Pontiff and his court remained virtually prisoners.[16]

But many difficulties impeded completion of the remaining conditions. The amount of ransom seems under various pretexts to have been considerably advanced, and is set down by most writers at 400,000 scudi. In order to raise this sum, all the church-plate, which had been saved in the fortress, was hastily coined into specie, and three scarlet hats were set up to sale. Two of them were at once secured for 160,000 scudi by the Venetians, ambitious of influence in the conclave. The third was bought for a creature of Pompeo Colonna, whose personal hostility to Clement had become somewhat mitigated by grief for the sufferings he had brought upon the city, and who, in a pathetic audience with his master, obtained his forgiveness and benediction. Still, a large balance of the besiegers' demands remained undischarged, and the stipulation regarding the fortresses was nullified, Civita Castellana being in the hands of the allies, and Ostia occupied by Andrea Doria, neither of whom would acknowledge the capitulation. Parma and Piacenza were also held for the Church, in consequence, as was suspected, of instructions secretly transmitted by Clement. In the hope of obtaining better terms, his Holiness successively directed more than one member of the Sacred College to proceed as legate to Charles, among whom was Cardinal Farnese, his successor on the papal throne; but none of them would execute the commission.

Meanwhile the miseries of the city were fearfully aggravated. The terrified peasantry having ceased to carry supplies where they were sure of misusage, scarcity was succeeded by famine; and the sewers, choked with bodies and abandoned to neglect, engendered a deadly epidemic, called by Muratori, the murrain, which spared neither friend nor foe. In August, the pestilence increased to a terrific degree; and the invading army being reduced by long licence to an undisciplined horde, portions of it rushed in masses from the city of the plague. Some of these bands, after attempting to hang the Pope's hostages, fled towards Terni and Spoleto, sacking the towns on their way, until cut to pieces by the confederates. Nor was the Pontiff exempt from scenes of suffering. Asses' flesh was served at his table; and a greengrocer's wife was hanged before S. Angelo, for dropping into the trenches a few salad leaves for his use. The contagion spread so rapidly in the castle, that the invaders, fearing their prey might slip from their grasp by death, removed his Holiness for some weeks to the Vatican Belvidere, until the scourge had abated.

Lannoy, having fallen a victim to the disease, was succeeded as viceroy by Ugo da Moncada, from whose mercy Clement knew he had nothing to expect, and whom Santori characterises as "an experienced, clever, and sagacious man of the world, devoid of religion, full of fraud, and no observer of his word." He arrived on the 31st of October, in order to effect some new arrangement, when the Pope purchased by further large sums an exemption from several of the former stipulations, in particular from putting himself and his cardinals into his enemy's hands by going to Naples.[17] To raise this fresh imposition, four more hats were thrown upon the market, and were purchased by adherents of the Emperor. At length, after many delays, the 9th of December was fixed for his liberation from a seven months' virtual captivity; but, distrusting every one, he escaped in disguise the previous night. Concealing his face and beard under an old slouch hat and cloak, and laden with baskets and bags, he passed the sentinels of S. Angelo as a pedlar or menial servant. At a secret postern in the Vatican garden, he found a fleet horse, with a single attendant, supposed to have been provided by Cardinal Colonna, and, riding all night by Celano and Baccano, after a short repose at Capranica, he reached Orvieto, which he had some days before fixed upon as an interim residence.

The diplomatic relations of the Holy See at Madrid were at this juncture in the hands of Count Castiglione, with whom we have formerly become acquainted in the service of Dukes Guidobaldo and Francesco Maria, and whom we last noticed as agent for the Marquis of Mantua at the Roman court in 1522, where he was again sent in the same capacity on the election of Clement VII. The position of the new Pontiff soon became one of great delicacy, and already were those difficulties closing around him, which, during his reign, completed the first great breach in the Romish church, and consummated the mischiefs of foreign invasion in the Peninsula. The struggle for universal dominion of those youthful rivals who occupied the thrones of France and the Empire, was convulsing civilised Europe, and Italy was obviously fated to become the permanent prey of the victor. In these circumstances, a character so deficient in energy and decision was singularly inadequate to cope with the necessities of the times; and Clement's influence at Florence, far from affording a prop to the tottering papacy, tended yet more to distract his irresolute purpose. Falling back upon the usual expedient of small minds, he adopted a neutral attitude between the two contending potentates: but the days were past when Pontiffs could grasp the balance of power, or curb a dangerous ascendancy; and Clement's views aimed not beyond siding with a momentary victor. To carry out such policy fine diplomacy was requisite, and Castiglione was selected to watch the interests of Rome at the Spanish court. In the autumn of 1524, he accepted this Nunziatura, to which was joined the lucrative collectorship of Spain; and after visiting the shrine of Loreto, he reached Madrid in the following March.

His negotiations for the next four years embraced the politics of Europe, to which those of Italy were but an episode. We cannot interrupt the thread of our narrative to notice them: a sketch of their progress, in [No. IV. of the Appendix], may afford some idea of the difficulties of Castiglione's position, as the medium of communication between a master who, leaving him habitually without information, recalled his most momentous instructions after they had been acted upon, and a monarch whose public measures were in uniform contradiction to his private assurances. That diplomacy so conducted should have issued in disgrace to Clement, ruin to Rome, and a broken heart to Count Baldassare, can excite no astonishment; but the ambassador merits our pity rather than our blame. Indeed its complicated intrigues may well drive the historian and the critic to despair. Incidents, which, although attended by important consequences, seem sudden and unlooked for, might, upon more accurate scrutiny, be detected as results long aimed at, and patiently wrought out. Thus, some documents lately published by Lanz[18] prove that Charles, although disposed to yield much for a satisfactory accommodation with Clement, had authorised Moncada, early in the summer of 1526, to concert with Cardinal Pompeo Colonna a series of domestic insurrections, in order to embarrass his Holiness into a disposition for peace, the issue of which machinations we have seen in the first sack of Rome.

Although the acts of Charles and his generals during 1526-7 were uniformly and aggravatingly hostile to Clement, and prejudicial to the papacy, they must be regarded as in some measure forced upon him by the shuffling of his Holiness. His own position and prospects were not then by any means so secure as to render redundant the support still carried by the influence of the Keys; and the cherished aim of his manhood, which would have united Western Europe in one faith and under one sway, had not yet been abandoned as a fitful dream. By keeping in view these peculiarities in his situation, we may in some measure reconcile the obvious contradictions between his professions and his policy—between his language to Castiglione and the conduct of Bourbon; and we may appreciate in their true sense such apparently fulsome and false expressions as he thus addressed to Clement, on the 18th of September, 1526:—"And since God has constituted us two as mighty luminaries, it behoves us to endeavour that the globe should be enlightened by us, and to see that no eclipse occur through our differences; let us, then, take counsel together for the general weal, for repressing barbarian inroads, and restraining sectarian error." At a moment when the eastern frontier of the empire had been broken down by the victorious Crescent; when the crowns of Hungary and Bohemia were tottering on his brother's brow; and when, as he writes in 1526, the wars of Italy had extracted every ducat from his treasury, we may well suppose how sincere was his wish for a settlement of those protracted struggles within the Alps, and for a union of interests with the Holy See. That his measures little accorded with that object, and nowise tended to bring it about, arose less from want of sincere intention than from an ill-judged mixture of good words and hard blows, partly dictated by his own deficient judgment, partly by the misapprehension of his officers. Though therefore the pillage of Rome by the Colonna was a natural consequence of his own intrigues, the regret he expressed to the Pontiff that his people had been driven to it ["que l'on ait donné l'occasion à mes gens que tel désastre soit advenu"] was, no doubt, his real feeling.

Anderson

THE EMPEROR CHARLES V.

From the picture by Titian in the Prado Gallery, Madrid

Equally inconsistent in appearance, but natural in the circumstances, was his conduct in reference to Bourbon's outrageous proceedings. When news of the sack reached Madrid, he affected great indignation, and put his court into mourning. On the 25th of July, he addressed to the magistracy of Rome a letter defending his proceedings. After narrating his liberation of Francis, and the various other sacrifices made by him, preliminary to such a general pacification as might enable all Christian powers to unite their arms against the Infidel, he charged the Pope with defeating this scheme by suddenly, and without reason, instigating an attack upon him and the imperial dignity, whereby he was compelled from self-defence to march fresh forces upon Italy, in what he regarded as a worse than civil broil. Moreover, new alliances against him having been arranged by his Holiness, and the truce actually broken, his troops had no alternative but to adopt compulsory measures. That these should, by the blunders of his officers, have led to the siege of the city, without his knowledge, he deeply regretted, and gladly would shed his best blood to repair its disasters. But great as had been the sacrifice, he consoled himself with a hope of its paving the way for a general peace, which he would do his utmost to accelerate. In fine, he wound up with most sonorous professions of devotion to the grandeur of the Roman name.[19]

The Pontiff's natural dissatisfaction with his ambassador at Madrid was very plainly expressed in a letter of the 20th of August, which taxed him with undue reliance upon the Emperor's vague protestations, imputing generally to him a want of foresight preceding the calamity of Rome, and a neglect of the proper remedies for that mischief. To this brief, Castiglione answered at considerable length, and with unnecessary diffuseness, as soon as it reached him in December.[20] The substance of his defence is that, on every occasion during the four years of his mission, he had laboured to establish a good understanding between his Holiness and Charles, and had been met with assurances, verbal and written, of his Majesty's anxious desire to meet these views; but that the great distance, and the delays of communication with Rome, not only rendered it impossible to provide for the successive exigencies as they arose, but left him entirely in the dark as to the most important movements until too late to avert impending mischief. Thus he had no intelligence of the truce arranged with Lannoy on the 15th of March, till he heard of its being rejected by Bourbon. These excuses ostensibly satisfied Clement; and, however inadequate they might be deemed in ordinary cases of diplomatic blundering, they may be allowed some weight in this instance; for, although the Emperor could scarcely fail to anticipate from the sack of Rome new facilities for domination in Italy, in consequence of the permanent humiliation of the papacy, history must acquit him of a preconcerted plan to bring about a catastrophe which incidentally resulted from Bourbon's disobedience and the disorganisation of his army. Indeed, had Charles been as much interested in the welfare of the Eternal City as Castiglione himself, he would have been powerless to arrest the destroyer, whose death had removed him from all reckoning on this side of the grave, and prevented his master from sacrificing him in token of good faith. It is, however, impossible to regard without contempt the hollow professions of an autograph letter addressed by the Emperor to Clement, on the 22nd of November, wherein he congratulated his Holiness on his supposed liberation, thanking God for it "with joy as sincere as was the grief with which I heard of your detention from no fault of mine." Avowing himself his most humble and loyal son, ready to use every effort for the restoration and increment of the apostolic dignity, he besought the Pontiff to credit nothing to the contrary that might be inserted by false and interested suggestions.[21]

Such are the considerations which seem calculated, and not altogether inadequate, to account for the eccentric policy and hollow professions of Charles, in so far as we can gather from the strange events thus briefly sketched. But, if we are to rely upon a different view brought forward by the Sieur de Brantôme in his anecdotes of Bourbon, the advance of the imperialist army was not dictated from Madrid. In his gossiping and often apocryphal pages is detailed a conversation held by him at Gaeta with a veteran, who in youth had been with the Constable, and who imputed to that renegade an intention of seizing upon the sovereignty of Rome. His overweening vanity and unbounded ambition countenance the idea, and the way in which he is there stated to have conciliated his soldiery, by pandering to their worst passions, gives colour to the charge. If it be credited, Clement's indignation was misplaced, and Charles might have defended his consistency at the expense of his pride, could he have demeaned himself to acknowledge having been baffled and betrayed by his own general.

Thus ended the Sack of Rome. No similar calamity had befallen the Holy City since the devastation of Robert Guiscard, who, four centuries and a half before, at the head of his Apulian Normans, laid in ruin and ashes the most monumental portion of the imperial capital. On this occasion, fewer remains of antiquity were exposed to destruction, but the people suffered far more severely. From four to six thousand of them fell in the first fury of the barbarians, besides many who perished by more mature cruelties. Thirty thousand are said to have sunk under the famine and pestilence which, during many subsequent months, ravaged the devoted city, leaving only about as many more for its entire population, which, according to Giovio, had, ten years before, amounted to eighty-five thousand. The value of property pillaged and destroyed was supposed to exceed two millions of golden ducats; the amount extorted in ransoms has been stated at a nearly equal sum. So general a pauperism ensued, that regular distributions were long continued from the papal treasury, drained as it had been. But a great revival of religious observances followed, being inculcated by the clergy and government, and practised very generally among the inhabitants, whose oblivion of such duties, and addiction to debauchery, usury, and every grovelling pursuit, had hitherto been scandalously apparent. Throughout all these scenes of misery, the Pontiff had bewailed the misfortunes of his subjects more than his own sufferings, and had penitently confessed himself their author. It was not till the 6th of October, in the following year, that he returned to his capital, pale and thin, languid and disheartened; and at the moment of his arrival, a preternatural storm burst over the city, succeeded by a most destructive flood. Nor were such omens out of season. In him had set the ancient glory of the papacy. From the moment that his predecessors, mingling in the arena of international strife, descended from arbiters to parties in the conflicts of Europe, their influence waned. When they had to canvass for the support of temporal sovereigns, they ceased to command them. But, after Clement was reduced to sue for personal protection to the successor of one who had knelt before a pontiff, the prestige of papal power was gone, its sceptre was shivered in the dust.[22]

[CHAPTER XL]

The Duke’s mischievous policy—New league against Charles V.—A French army reaches Naples—The Duke’s campaign in Lombardy—Peace restored—Siege of Florence—Coronation of the Emperor at Bologna—The independence of Italy finally lost—Leonora Duchess of Urbino—The Duke’s military discourses.

WE must now return to the confederate camp at Isola, which the Duke of Urbino broke up, after having eased his conscience by sending to Francis I. the explanation of his views to which we have referred. The general feeling regarding his conduct was testified by a speedy withdrawal of many forces under his command, some deserting to the enemy, others retiring to their homes. On the 1st of June, he was at Monterosi, and thence fell back upon Viterbo and Todi, where he obtained some inglorious successes over the imperialist bands, as they fled in disorder from plague-stricken Rome. During the autumn his troops, which gradually diminished to a few thousands, led a life of disreputable pillage about the valley of the Tiber; and, after again embroiling himself in the affairs of Perugia with little credit or success, he interfered in the succession of Camerino in a way which we shall find eventually pregnant with mischief to his son. On the Pontiff's arrival at Orvieto, he hastened to wait upon his Holiness, and put forward the Venetian commissioner to make a laboured justification of his recent miscarriages. Clement, affecting contentment with what was beyond redress, received him cordially, and hinted at a union of his son Guidobaldo with Caterina, daughter of his late competitor, Lorenzo de' Medici. But ere long he reaped the fruit of his feeble policy, by hearing that he was spoken of in the most disparaging terms by the gallant Francis I., and by the French general Lautrec.

Still more mortifying to him was the distrust shown by his Venetian employers. We learn from Sanuto's Diaries that, early in May, his Duchess had repaired to Venice, with the young Guidobaldo and a suite of forty persons, while the visits passing between her and the imperial ambassador soon became matter of unfavourable comment. On the 29th of June, a guard of barges was placed near her residence, to intercept any attempt at escape; and on the envoy from Urbino questioning this proceeding, the Doge said, in explanation, "We have much reliance on our Captain from past experience, but what has been done was to satisfy the vulgar." Hearing that his wife and son were thus under surveillance, as hostages for his good faith, the Duke, on the 9th of July, penned a remonstrance and justification, somewhat similar to that which he had transmitted to the French king. It will be found in the [Appendix, No. III.], and, though a most inconclusive defence, it was well received by the Signory, and his family were so far released from constraint, that, early in August, the Duchess was allowed to go for health to the baths of Abano. News of her departure from such a cause were little consolation to her lord, who declared that, were she to die, he should be in despair. Remembering, however, the fate of Carmagnola, he would not venture in person to Venice, until he had twice sent his confidential friend Leonardi to reconnoitre the state of feeling there. Reassured at length, by pressing invitations from the Signory, he in the spring took ship at Pesaro with a small suite, and was met upon landing by an escort of twenty gentlemen in scarlet, who conducted him to his lodging. Next day he was admitted to the interview which he had demanded, and was received at the top of the great stairs by the Doge, followed by the principal senators. After mutual embraces, the Duke was led to a seat of honour, and had audience for an hour and a half. This being concluded, the public were admitted to see their Captain-general, who was richly decked in diamonds, with a massive bracelet of twisted gold on his left arm, and a jewelled device in his cap. On returning to his apartment, he had from the Signory the customary compliment of confections, malmsey, and wax lights. It would be hard to say how far he was indebted to his oratory for this happy extrication from his difficulties; but we are told by one of his suite that many of the nobility, who crowded to pay their respects, besought a sight of his speech to the senate, insisting that so eloquent an oration must needs have been written and committed to memory.[23]

Thinking it well to retire with flying colours, he next morning took his departure; and his party, being challenged by three of the patrol for riding armed, answered by beating them to death. The same intemperate behaviour brought him ere many days into a new dilemma with his employers. Gian Andrea da Prato, an officer of the Republic, having somewhat disrespectfully combated his opinion as to the defences of Peschiera, received from him a severe blow in the face, tearing it with a diamond ring he happened to wear, which was followed up by a severe beating with his baton of command; Leonardi adding that it was well for him the Duke was unarmed. The Venetian officers, protesting against this violence as an insult to the Signory, and as incompatible with due freedom of discussion in council, sent a complaint to the senate; but the Duke's resident minister succeeded in averting their indignation by explanations. Their satisfaction with his services under the banner of St. Mark was further testified by presenting him with a palace worth 10,000 scudi, which may fairly be taken into account as countervailing the strictures of Guicciardini and Sismondi.

The capture of Rome being known, a new coalition was hastily patched up, wherein France, England, Venice, and Florence were parties, and to which the free cardinals, in name of the Sacred College, adhered. Its avowed object was to check the exorbitant power of Charles in Italy, and to establish Francesco Sforza in Milan, then held by Antonio della Leyva for the Emperor. A powerful French army under Lautrec marched on the 30th of June, and, on its arrival in Lombardy, the Venetians recalled most of their forces from Central Italy. On the 4th of October Pavia was taken and miserably sacked, and Milan might have become an easy prey had not Lautrec preferred advancing for the Pope's liberation. But, having lost time in extorting contributions from Piacenza and Parma, he had only reached Reggio when he heard of his escape from durance. Clement, though avowing gratitude for these exertions on his behalf, declined committing himself by any overt act against the Emperor, whose troops still occupied Rome.

The year which now closed is justly characterised by Muratori as the most fatal and lamentable for Italy that history has commemorated. The horrors of war, which, during its course, were poured in accumulated measure upon the Eternal City, fell largely upon many other parts of the Peninsula. Four foreign armies were let loose upon her plains, to steep them in misery, and the enormities attending the sack of Rome were repeated at Pavia, Spoleto, and a multitude of minor towns in Lombardy and Central Italy. The furies of civil broil were meanwhile scarcely less rampant. The Campagna of Rome, the sunny shores of Naples, the towns of the Abruzzi, were ravaged or revolutionised by the arms and intrigues of the Pontiff. Florence, Siena, Modena, Rimini, Ravenna, Perugia, and Camerino changed their governments, under pressure of foreign force or domestic violence. Nor were the elements more propitious. Incessant rains destroyed the harvest, and laid whole districts under water. With an unusual demand upon agricultural produce, the supply was greatly curtailed. Famine reigned throughout the land, and pestilence desolated the population. The inhabitants, reduced to general mendicity, beset the streets and highways with their squalid children. Their murmurs by day and their screams by night met with rare responses from passers-by as needy as themselves; and at length, worn out with suffering, they laid them down to die. It was during this year of general gloom that Machiavelli closed his life; and to it specially applies that passage in his Principe (whether then interpolated or written long before) describing the prostration of his native land. "Conquered, enslaved, divided—without leader or law—beaten, spoiled, partitioned, overrun, and in every way ruined—she lay half lifeless, awaiting some one to heal her wounds, to arrest the robbery, pillage, and forced taxation of her states, to heal her long-cankering sores."

To this hideous but faithful picture one finishing touch is wanting. Alarmed by Lautrec's advance upon Naples, the Prince of Orange at length, on the 16th of February, gave orders for the evacuation of Rome. But his army, now crumbled away to some thirteen thousand men, refused to march without an advance of pay, for which a final contribution of 20,000 ducats was wrested from the Camera. Not satisfied with this, the brutal soldiery redoubled their individual efforts, by every ingenuity of torture, to screw more treasure or ransom from the wretched inhabitants. But a summary vengeance awaited them. Such of the citizens as had arms secretly left the city, and, as their relentless foes straggled heedlessly across the Campagna, laden with spoil, they, by a succession of furious charges, recovered a vast quantity of the plunder, and, stripping the rapacious soldiery of their gala dresses and rich jewels, dismissed them naked. In this state the exasperated peasantry, headed by Napoleone Orsini, the warlike Abbot of Farfa, set upon and massacred them without mercy. So signal was these miscreants' fate that, in two years, scarcely one of them is supposed to have survived.

After delaying for some weeks at Bologna, to abide the issue of many intricate negotiations which followed upon the Pontiff's release, Lautrec advanced, by the eastern coast, to attack the kingdom of Naples. His army is estimated by Muratori at about fifty thousand, though stated by others at a much higher amount. On the 10th of February, he passed the frontier by the Tronto, and at Aquila, and elsewhere in the Abruzzi, was received with open arms by the remnant of the Angevine party. On the 12th of March, the two armies were in presence at Troia; but, neither of them being anxious for a decisive result, no engagement followed. After ravaging most of La Puglia and Calabria, the French troops sat down before Naples, on the 29th of April, and continued the siege during most of the summer. Once more did that delicious land, where the ancients placed their Elysian fields, and which is the terrestrial heaven of modern Italians, prove fatal to its spoilers. Its soil, fertile in nature's choicest products; its bright atmosphere, redolent of beauty; its climate, conducive to luxurious gratifications; its volcanic air, stimulating to sensual indulgences; its breezes, wafting perennial perfumes—all invited to an excess of enjoyment, enervating to the physical, as it was fatal to the moral energies of the invaders. Their cup of pleasure was drugged, and Naples was avenged on her destroyers by her own poisons, which they greedily quaffed. A contagious pestilence swept their ranks, and, on the 15th of August, carried off their leader. Weakened and discouraged, the remnant shut themselves into Aversa, but were soon forced to a capitulation, which being violated, most of them were cut to pieces.

To counterbalance Lautrec's expedition, the Emperor had ordered more troops across the Alps, and, in the beginning of May, Henry Duke of Brunswick brought fourteen thousand Germans through the Tyrol to the Lago di Garda. On the first alarm of their approach, the Duke of Urbino made the most of a handful of troops under his command, to protect the Venetian mainland territory; and his biographers give him great credit for defensive measures which ensured their towns from attack, and obliged the invaders to move upon the Milanese. Pavia having been, about the same time, surprised by della Leyva, Lodi alone remained in Sforza's hands, and before it the Duke of Brunswick drew his lines. But the destruction of his magazines by Francesco Maria reduced his army to great straits; and a virulent epidemic having carried off two thousand of his men, the residue broke up and made their way homewards, after their first assault had been sharply repelled.

In September, the Duke of Urbino's little army was reinforced by a strong body of Swiss infantry and French lances, led by St. Pol, and it was resolved to recover Pavia. Scarcely was the siege begun when news of the desperate state of the French before Naples induced St. Pol to propose withdrawing his contingent to the succour of Genoa, which, in consequence of Andrea Doria suddenly passing over from the side of Francis to that of his rival, was placed in great danger. A brief delay was obtained by the urgent representations of Francesco Maria, who, throwing aside his accustomed sluggishness, directed operations in person. On the sixth day he effected a breach by blowing up a bastion, which placed the city at its assailants' mercy, and it was again exposed to the horrors of a ruthless sack. This success was, however, counterbalanced by a revolution in Genoa, the city declaring itself independent of France, and was followed by the fall of Savona, on the 21st of October. It might have been saved by more prompt exertions on the Duke's part, who was unjustly blamed by his French allies for its loss, being, as Paruta assures us, interdicted by the Signory from leaving their frontier exposed.

During the weary wars of Clement VII., the fluctuations inherent in human affairs were rarely counterbalanced by high principles or commanding genius. Confederacies formed upon narrow views and selfish calculations were neither sustained with persevering energy, nor directed by men of enlarged views and gallant bearing. Indeed, courage itself faltered and zeal grew languid, in contests which seemed to demoralise officers and soldiery. It cannot therefore occasion surprise that all parties were equally ready to play fast and loose; that the great powers kept themselves ever open for new combinations; and that independent captains, true to old condottiere usages, readily transferred their services to the quarter whence most substantial benefits were likely to accrue. Thus, after the great discouragement resulting to the cause of Francis, from the loss of Lautrec's army and the desertion of Doria, his allies began to waver. The Pontiff, though scarcely recovered from the alarm in which his recent misfortunes had left him, displayed an unaccountable leaning towards their author; and even Sforza, having to choose between two claimants of his duchy, began to think that the best terms might be had from the Emperor. The Venetians were as usual waiters upon providence; but they so overplayed the temporising game, that the arrangements for a double treaty between Clement, Charles, and Francis found them still in the field, and they were left to make head single-handed against the imperialists. As such a contest was necessarily a defensive one, the Duke's dilatory manœuvres were at length well timed, and the Signory preferred thus prolonging the struggle to restoring the territory they had gained during the war, as a preliminary condition of peace. The Emperor had landed in August at Genoa, with a powerful fleet and army, and new levies arrived from Germany. St. Pol, after drawing off his troops towards Genoa, was surprised and shamefully beaten ere he could be supported by Francesco Maria,[24] who had encamped at Cassano on the Adda, in a position that menaced Milan, and commanded supplies from the Bergamese territory, whilst it effectually protected the Venetian mainland from imperialist aggression. The Duke there resisted every attempt to dislodge him, until the senate had arranged the terms of a treaty with the Emperor, which was signed on the 23rd of December.

The ostensible motives of Charles in coming to Italy were twofold; to forward arrangements for a general league against the Turks, who, after overrunning Hungary, had laid siege to Vienna; and to have the imperial diadem and the iron crown of Lombardy imposed upon his brows by the Pope. Bologna was selected for the ceremony, whither his Holiness arrived in great state about the end of October, followed on the 5th of November by the Emperor. The two potentates were lodged in the public palace, and addressed themselves to the former of these objects with so much success, that on the 23rd of December a treaty was concluded, wherein were comprehended all the Italian states except Florence. The Lombard question was settled, Sforza being left in possession of his duchy, but hampered with ruinous payments to the Emperor in name of expenses; whilst the Venetians, besides paying heavy sums under the same pretext, had to resign their acquisitions about Ravenna and on the Neapolitan coast. Florence was not included, in consequence of its de facto government being in the hands of the democratic party, who, in 1527, had availed themselves of Clement's difficulties to expel the Medici; it was now, however, replaced under their sway by the combined arms of the Pontiff and the Emperor. After ten months of obstinate defence,—the final effort of its old republican spirit, which commands our sympathy and respect far more than the struggles of faction that used in earlier times to deluge its piazza in blood,—the city was surrendered on the 12th of August, 1530, and its chains were riveted by a base bastard, who seems to have had nothing of the Medici but their name. In this siege died Philibert Prince of Orange, one of the last survivors of the invaders of Rome. Like his comrade Bourbon, he was a renegade from the service of Francis I., in disgust, as was alleged, at being turned out of his palace to make way for the imperious Wolsey, and at the ridicule to which this slight exposed him in the French court. The title passed to his nephew René Count of Nassau, who carried it from Provence to Holland, and was grandfather of William III. of England. Their leader fallen, their occupation gone, a serious alarm spread throughout Central Italy, lest the victorious soldiery should re-enact the horrors perpetrated by Bourbon's sanguinary host. These fears, however, soon subsided; indeed a century and a quarter elapsed ere that fair land was again exposed to the devastations of foreign spoilers.

These diplomatic arrangements being thus satisfactorily concluded, preparations advanced rapidly for the coronation, and many princely feudatories of Italy flocked to witness that august function. Among these was Francesco Maria, who, though summoned as Prefect of Rome, had some cause to misdoubt his welcome from the Pontiff and the Emperor. The old family grudge still smouldered in the breast of the former, and he was alleged to have lately intrigued with Charles that the Prince of Orange, after re-establishing the Medici at Florence, should seize upon Urbino for Ascanio Colonna, whose vague claims upon that duchy have been already explained.[25] Indeed, a rumour of that general's march upon his states in March, 1529, had suddenly recalled the Duke from Lombardy, in order to provide for their defence. To the Emperor he had been uniformly opposed, rather from the chances of war than upon any personal quarrel; yet he did not hesitate to repair to the coronation, arriving at Bologna about the 1st of November, and there met with an interesting incident.

As he approached the city with his suite he was met by about fifty German veterans, who addressed him in their rough transalpine tongue, and through an interpreter explained that they had come to pay to him their reverence, having served under his father in long past wars, inquiring where their old commander had died. They were told that it was himself that led them to victory; but, unaware how early he had commanded armies, they demurred to this, saying, that were their old leader alive his beard would be blanched. The Duke having assured them that their gallantry and attachment were well known and appreciated by him, they dismissed their doubts, crowding round to kiss his hands or mantle, and accompanied him to his lodging, a civility duly acknowledged by thanks and a suitable largess.

Several days having passed in visits of compliment, the Emperor arrived, escorted into the town by the Dukes of Urbino and Savoy, with their brilliant staffs. Mindful only of the renown which the former had acquired in recent campaigns, the monarch summoned him to his side, and conversed with him in friendly familiarity. He called him the first general in Christendom, and complimented his officers as worthy soldiers of a famous school, whose complexions bore the honourable scars and weather-stains of good service. Duchess Leonora became on her arrival equally the object of imperial favour, and received flattering testimony to her polished and princely manners. The purpose of these marked attentions was soon developed, in a proposal to confer upon Francesco Maria the baton, as captain-general of the imperial troops in Italy. This gratifying offer he gracefully declined, pleading an engagement to the Venetians, which prevented his listening to such proposals without consent of the Signory. To them Charles forthwith addressed his request; but received for answer that the same considerations which induced him to make it rendered them resolute in retaining the services of a leader who for many years had brought renown to their arms; but that, though unable to spare himself, they were ready to place him with all their forces at the disposal of his Highness. The Emperor had employed the Duchess of Savoy's intervention in this affair, who at his suggestion cultivated a great intimacy with the Duke and Duchess of Urbino, and her pleading was on one occasion enforced by Charles in person in a well-timed visit. The establishment of this lady is described by Leonardi, who was particularly struck with the easy elegance and graceful conversation of her six girlish maids of honour, seated on cushions of tawny velvet, and gaily decked in rich jewels, plumes, and streaming ribbons, chatting merrily with her guests. The Emperor, far from taking umbrage at his disappointment, sought Francesco Maria's opinion as to the person best fitted for commander-in-chief, who recommended the appointment of Antonio della Leyva. Indeed, Giraldi declares that Charles "never could have enough of his fine discourses or sententious remarks," and pressed him to name any favour he would accept of. The Duke, thus encouraged, urged the restoration of Sora, Arce, Arpino, and Rocca Guglielmi, which had been taken from him at the instigation of Leo X., a request to which Charles acceded about three years later, paying 100,000 scudi of compensation to a Flemish nobleman who had been invested with these Neapolitan fiefs.

On the 22nd of February, in the chapel attached to the Palazzo Pubblico, the brows of Charles were encircled with the iron crown of Lombardy, which, as Muratori observes, had not yet been rendered a sacred relic by the legend of its having been formed out of a nail of the true cross. Two days after, he received the imperial diadem in the church of S. Petronio, the Duke of Urbino, as Prefect of Rome, carrying the sword of state, with which the Pontiff had just conferred knighthood upon the Emperor. The populace were regaled in the Piazza with two bullocks roasted entire, whilst both the great fountains poured forth continued streams of wine, and silver largess was scattered at all hands. An accident from the fall of some scaffolding, which nearly proved fatal to the hero of the ceremonial, brought on a sharp altercation between the captain of the imperial guard and the chief magistrate of the city. To the threats of the officer, to treat the place as he had already done the larger town of Milan, the latter replied that in Milan they manufactured needles, but in Bologna they made swords. On the 22nd of March, Charles departed for Germany, in order to defend his Austrian dominions from the Turks; and, nine days later, Clement set out in a litter for his capital, where he arrived on the 9th of April, after spending the 6th at Urbino, on a visit to Francesco Maria.

From these transactions at Bologna there dated a new era for Italy. The long struggle of Guelph and Ghibelline was at length come to an end—the standard of her nationality was finally struck. Succeeding pontiffs were content to lean for support upon an authority which their predecessors had defied or resisted. It mattered little whether that paramount influence was held by an Austrian or Spanish imperial dynasty; so long as the two Sicilies, Sardinia, and Milan owned its dominion, the freedom of the other states was merely nominal. The Peninsula was, indeed, no longer ravaged by European wars, yet the protracted struggle did not close until the victor had riveted on her his chains. She was seldom desolated by invading armies, but she was not the less plundered by licensed spoilers. Peace was restored to her, but independence was gone. The Reformation, too, which Leo left a petty schism, had in ten years changed the faith of a large section of Europe, and Rome was no longer the capital of Christendom. The results of this change in the Church it is not the province of these pages to notice, but, in common with other Italian feudatories, the Dukes of Urbino felt the altered aspect of their political relations. War was not now a profession demanding their services, and recompensing them with glory and profit. The trade of arms had come to an end, as regarded the old condottiere system and its frightful abuses, and was modified into the more orderly machinery of standing armies on a limited scale. We shall accordingly find these princes for the future little mixed up with the general affairs of the Peninsula, and scarcely ever taking the field, but left with ample leisure for the administration of their little principality, or the cultivation of their individual tastes. Had such been the lot of Duke Federigo or his accomplished son, their fame would scarcely have been dimmed, for theirs were virtues equally calculated to elevate a court or illustrate a camp. But it was otherwise with the two remaining sovereigns della Rovere; and the glories of the dynasty would suffer no diminution did we now draw our narrative to a close. Yet these Dukes were not commonplace men; and, making allowance for the age in which they lived,—when the fine gold of literature and arts had been transmuted into baser metal, and when genius had fled from a desolation which peace without freedom was powerless to reanimate,—they were not unworthy to rule in the Athens of Italy. Those readers, however, who have thus far followed our narrative must content themselves through its remaining chapters with characters less striking, views less general, events of narrowed interest; and must bear in mind that the niche in the temple of Fame appropriated to Urbino, as well as that enshrining the Italian name, was earned ere the coronation of Charles V. had closed the struggles of Italy, and consummated her subjugation.

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.

Returned to his state after so long a separation, Francesco Maria found, during the next two years, ample leisure to attend to its internal administration, and to watch the progress of his promising family. The eldest of these seems to have been Donna Ippolita, for whom he soon received, through the Marquis del Vasto, an offer of marriage from Don Antonio d'Aragona, son of the Duke of Montalto. At the nuptials, which were celebrated with suitable splendour, he had a very unlooked-for guest in Ascanio Colonna, whose intrigues to supplant him in the duchy we have lately noticed, but who, finding these hopelessly foiled by the Duke's establishment in the good graces of the Emperor, sought a reconciliation through the bridegroom, his cousin, whom he accompanied to Urbino. This frankness was met in a kindred spirit by his host, and their amity was cemented by a generous hospitality.

It was now, perhaps, that Francesco Maria took opportunity to dictate the results of his long experience of war, in a series of Military Discourses, which were published fifty years later, but which, being evidently printed from loose and unrevised notes, are not fairly amenable to literary criticism.[29] They are but desultory and disjointed observations, carelessly jotted down, with little attention to order or style, and edited without emendation, or even intelligible punctuation. The matter abounds in truisms and common-places, displaying neither enlarged views nor knowledge of mankind: the style is garrulous, diffuse, and redundant. Yet, as on matters of military skill the Duke was considered a high authority, it may not be improper here to record some of his opinions.

This was his idea of a fortified town: "It ought to stand in a plain, its citadel commanded by no eminence. The rampart-wall should be three paces wide at base, supporting an earthern rampart of fifteen or twenty paces wide, with barbicans. This retaining wall should be in height about twenty feet, and have above it a curtain of nearly as many. The upper part, being most exposed to be battered, had better have an earthen facing. There ought to be a platform, rising sixteen feet over the curtain, placed half-way between each baloard and bastion. The baloards should have guns mounted only at the sides, and be of massive strength, from fifty to sixty paces in diameter, that the guns may be freely wrought. Should a baloard be taken, it will still be flanked by the adjoining platforms, a ditch drawn between each of which would in a night's time recomplete the defences. The fosse should be about twenty paces wide, and is best without water, so as to allow artificial fire to be showered down upon the enemy. There ought to be no counterscarp, seeing it generally serves as a protection to the besiegers; but, if there be one, it had better be only of earth, at a low angle of elevation. Above all, there ought to be provided many secret ports for frequent sallies, and for the easy return of the men. It has been long noticed that no fortress was ever carried but by some oversight of its defenders, and everything depends upon a judicious selection of positions for defence. Unquestionably a single sin suffices to send a man to the devil, whatever be his other good works; and, in like manner, one oversight in fortification may lose the place, as happened when I took Pavia and Cremona. In short, it is all very well to play with plans and models, but one must see to everything on the spot."

"He said, in reference to the fortresses of Legnano and Verona, that it was very ill-judged in the Republic never to carry things out as they had been planned, in consequence of frequent ministerial changes, and the system of governing from day to day, and bit by bit, without reference to any general design. By adopting an opposite method, he had completed the defences of Pesaro much more efficiently, and at a third of the outlay it would have cost any one else, simply because he was the sole head and executor, and kept in view the entire works, not the individual gates, baloards, and details; and by so completing them that it must be attacked on two or three sides, whilst provided with ten or twelve concealed sally-ports." He contended that a fortress on a hill was difficult to defend, one on a plain less so; but that the easiest and most secure was one whose defences partly extended along the level, and in part rose upon steep ground, such as Verona, which he maintained could be more easily held by five thousand men against eighty thousand, than most towns by eight thousand against half that besieging force.

In conducting a siege, the Duke dwells upon the necessity of a choice infantry, in which German solidity should be happily combined with the active troops of Italy and Spain; yet he admits that men-at-arms, when dismounted, can be turned to excellent account in an assault, and that light cavalry are of obvious value. "Above all," he says, "you require a well-supplied commissariat, and regular pay, with sufficient artillery and military machines. After choosing the most eligible spot for encampment, just without range of the enemy's guns, the first thing is to provide your baggage and supplies against sudden surprise; next to open trenches for your artillery, securing your men by a ditch wide enough for their operations, but not so broad as to be commanded from the walls, and taking care not to let too many of them at once into the trenches, so as to embarrass each other. It is an immense protection to flank your trenches with lines drawn from your principal encampment close up to the city walls, which must be strongly defended against the enemy's guns, and must contain a force adequate to check their sallies, and, if necessary, to cover the trenches, or even succour your camp."

"Should you resort to a blockade, it is best to establish your army in one or two towns ten to fifteen miles off, taking care to secure every intervening place. At that distance your own supplies are more easily procured, and your light cavalry can readily intercept the enemy's convoys, whilst the garrison cannot attack you, except at every disadvantage, and without artillery."

As for artillery, we find a recommendation of battering guns carrying from thirty to one hundred pound balls, and of field-pieces and ship's cannon from fifteen to twenty pounds. The gunpowder in Italy being bad, fifty was the average of daily discharges; but the Turks, having very superior powder, could fire as many as seventy times, which was looked upon as a stupendous performance.

Animadverting upon those tardy tactics which never anticipated a movement of the enemy, the Duke compared them to a child applying its hand to the parts successively chastised, without attempting to ward off the next blow; yet, Fabius-like, he considered that a general's talent was more shown in his selection of suitable posts than in the conduct of a pitched battle. Popular risings he held very cheap, believing them utterly contemptible when not supported by disciplined troops, and instancing his own experience at Florence in 1527, when, with eighty soldiers, he put down an insurrection, and maintained the ascendancy of the Medici.

With reference to the respective merits of various nations whom he had seen in the field, he said that "a good Italian and a good Spanish soldier are equal. The Swiss at the outset are an excellent force; but, in a protracted campaign, they deteriorate, and become good for little. The Germans sustain an onset of men-at-arms most valiantly, and, during these Italian wars, have become in other respects expert, especially at skirmishes, either in cover or in the open country. The Turks, being unskilled in war, have hitherto owed their victories rather to the deficiencies of their opponents than to their own superiority. He ascribed the success of French armies against the Italians to an absurd practice of the latter, who always fought in squadrons of twenty-five men-at-arms, each squadron engaging another, so that the battle was made up of many separate skirmishes; and, in the end, the most numerous army generally carried the day. Charles VIII., on the contrary, formed in three battalions,—the van, centre, and rear,—and, with his force thus concentrated, bore down the detached tactics of his opponents. Yet the Duke did not consider this French disposition as invariably efficacious, preferring in many cases that an army should act in one body, even at the risk of leaving its baggage and artillery in the rear, and comparatively unprotected. But, on this and similar points, his maxim was not to adhere to any invariable rule."

Regarding the construction of an army, we find this passage:—"In preparing an expedition, the commander ought to imitate the process by which nature creates a living body, forming first the heart; then the vital members, such as the liver, lungs, blood, and brains; next the skin; and, finally the hair and nails. In like manner, the foundation of an enterprise should be the general, who is its heart, and in whom should be united varied capacity, with perfect rectitude and justice. Then his officers should be strenuous, experienced, and implicitly obedient, for such captains are certain to recruit soldiers of the same stamp. Next, let him look to his commissariat and military chest, and see that his arms and accoutrements are adapted to his enemy and the country. Lastly, let him regard all extraneous and casual aid as mere skin, hair, and nails, relying mainly on his own well-disciplined troops." The Duke considered that "men-at-arms are by no means so useless as they are sometimes regarded, and that, although infantry is the basis of an army, nevertheless it would not do to have only that force in the field; just as, although in the human body it is the eye alone which sees, the hand which works, the head which guides, yet man would not be so perfect or beautiful a creature with but eyes, hands, or head, as he is with all these various members. Hence he would wish to have soldiers of all sorts in his camp,—men-at-arms, light cavalry, a German brigade, and a full complement of Italians."

But whilst the theory of warfare thus occupied his thoughts, he was not neglectful of its munitions; and it was his special concern to provide for his veterans, horses, arms, and accoutrements of a quality which gained them general admiration. After nearly three years of peace the Venetians, fearing that their swords might become rusty, ordered a muster of their forces on the mainland, and an inspection of their frontier defences. The reviews were conducted by their Captain-general in person, who spent several months of 1532 in Lombardy with the Duchess, leaving the government of his state in the hands of his son Guidobaldo, now eighteen years of age. From thence he was called to Friuli, on the approach of a disorganised mass of Italian soldiery, who were returning home from the Turkish war, burning and plundering as they went. By firm and temperate measures he kept them in check, and constrained them to resume an orderly march. The only immediate result to the Peninsula from campaigns in Hungary was an alarm along the Adriatic coast of a Turkish descent, which was made a pretext by Clement for seizing upon Ancona, and annexing that republic to the papal states.

[CHAPTER XLI]

Italian militia—The Camerino disputes—Death of Clement VII.—Marriage of Prince Guidobaldo—Proposed Turkish crusade under the Duke—His death and character.

THREE nearly contemporary events had lately combined to extinguish the nationality of Italy, and those liberties which, shared in ample or more sparing measure by her many states, had till now crowned her military glories with intellectual renown. In the sack of Rome the power of the Keys had been shaken, the prestige of the papal city had passed away. The defence of Florence was the last effort of patriotism, and with it fell communal independence. The coronation of Charles V. laid upon the Peninsula an iron yoke of foreign despotism, which rendered her virtually a province of Spain. A necessary consequence of this sad change will be to limit the field of our investigation, and to restrict what remains of our work to the ducal family and their hereditary domains, which for the future were little more than an appanage of the Spanish monarchy. The Lords of Urbino had hitherto been prominent among the captains of adventure, and bore a part wherever engagements were offered, or hard blows to be had. But the condottiere system being now superseded, a new mode of warfare and machinery of defence became indispensable. Knight-service and the romance of war were swept away by artillery; the imposing battaglia of men-at-arms proved powerless when confronted by battalions of steady infantry, or out-manœuvred by the dashing cavalry of Dalmatia. This lesson, first taught by the Swiss in their fastnesses, had been practically demonstrated to the Italians in every great action from the Taro to the recent Lombard campaigns, and had been adopted by most of their leaders. It now, however, became necessary to apply it in another sense, and, seeing that captains were no longer to be hired with their respective followings of efficient soldiery, to organise a militia of its own for the defence of such state, upon principles which Machiavelli was among the first to recognise and explain.

Before that system came into general use, the Italian infantry was notoriously incompetent to cope with transalpine levies, as Francesco Maria had bitterly experienced in the war of 1523-27. He therefore, in 1533, instituted a militia of his mountaineers, under the name of the Feltrian legion, which before his death numbered five thousand men, in four regiments, commanded by as many colonels. The object was to make them good soldiers without ceasing to be citizens; to maintain in readiness at small expense a military population, who were not men of war by profession. For this purpose lists were annually taken of all males from eighteen to twenty-five, learned professions and infamous persons being exempted, and to them arms were given. They were drilled and instructed in the necessary evolutions, and a proportion of them were called into active service when needed. On these occasions they were well paid; but, when kept on the reserve, their small stipend was rendered more attractive by a variety of political immunities and fiscal exemptions, including the exclusive privilege of bearing arms. The practical result was this,—the able-bodied population were, on the one hand, brought into a sort of direct dependence on the executive, and, on the other, were taught that the safety of the commonwealth was entrusted to their swords and sinews. It is scarcely necessary to add that this system has been generally adopted, and that on it are still based the military institutions of most continental nations.

In December, 1532, the Emperor returned to Italy, and was met near Vicenza by Francesco Maria, who welcomed him in his own name, and in that of the Signory. Dispensing with complimentary formalities, Charles received him at once to easy intercourse, and, requesting his continued attendance, spent much time in conversing with him on the art of war. At Bologna another congress was held by the Pontiff and the Emperor, in which were discussed the affairs of Italy, the proposed general council, and the matrimonial speculations of Clement for advancement of his house. The marriage of Alessandro de' Medici, now created Duke of Florence, was arranged with Margaret of Austria, natural daughter of Charles; but the hand of Caterina de' Medici, which the latter wished to be given to Francesco Sforza, was reserved by her ambitious uncle for a French prince. Charles left Bologna on the 28th of February, 1533, and embarked at Genoa for Spain, after giving some hope to Francesco Maria of a satisfactory settlement of his claims upon Sora. Clement in ten days after set out for Rome. The estrangement between these potentates, which at this meeting began to chill their intercourse, was greatly widened by the voyage of his Holiness in the following autumn to Marseilles, where he celebrated the nuptials of Caterina with Henry, second son and successor of Francis I. At this second congress of Bologna, Titian met the Emperor by special command; and it was perhaps on that occasion that he had commissions for portraits of the Duke and Duchess of Urbino, which now ornament the Uffizi gallery. The former is engraved as a frontispiece for this volume; of the latter we have lately spoken: both will demand further notice in our [fifty-fourth chapter], and in the [last No. of the Appendix].

In April the Duchess Leonora gave birth to a son at Mantua, who was named after Julius II., and was destined to holy orders. His father had at the same time a severe fit of gout; and, on his return home, the painful duty devolved upon him of providing against the visitation of a scarcity which then lamentably affected Italy. The close of the year found him a suitor with the Pope in the affair of Camerino, which we shall now briefly explain.

The small state of that name in the March of Ancona had been ruled for nearly three hundred years by the [Varana family], some of whom we have occasionally mentioned in these Memoirs. Exaggerating the domestic atrocities, then too frequent among Italians of their rank, they became revoltingly notorious, in 1433-4, for a complicated fratricide. Bernardo, Lord of Camerino, jealous of his brothers Giovanni and Pier-Gentile, the offspring of his father's second marriage, had them put to death by the agency of his own sons. Ere many months passed, his subjects, loathing the foul deed, suddenly rose against its authors. With sweeping vengeance they slew him, his brother german Gentil Pandolfo, and his six sons, dashing the heads of the little ones against the wall. The succession was thus opened to Giulio Cesare, son of Giovanni, who, in 1451, married the only daughter of Sigismondo Pandolfo, despot of Rimini.[*30] He lived to see the usurpations of Cesare Borgia, and, falling into the hands of Michelotto on the capture of La Pergola, the old man perished by the bowstring of that monster in 1502, along with his eldest son Venanzio, and two natural children. Venanzio had, in 1497, married Maria, the only sister of Duke Francesco Maria, of whom we have already had to tell a tale of scandal, and left one son Sigismondo. He was born in 1499, and escaped the fate of his father and uncles, from having been sent in infancy to Urbino. There he was educated; and we have seen him defending S. Leo, when scarcely beyond boyhood. After years of imprisonment and exile, his uncle Francesco Maria made an ineffectual attempt, on the death of Leo X., to vindicate his hereditary fief, from the usurpation of his paternal uncle, Giovanni Maria, its de facto lord. Sigismondo sought consolation for his hard fortunes in low debauchery, until he fell in 1522 by the hand of assassins, at the supposed instigation of his usurping uncle, who, in 1527, had absolution of the foul deed, and to whose career we must now turn.[31]

Giovanni Maria, second son of Giulio Cesare Count of Camerino, was sent to Venice on Borgia's approach, and so avoided the fate of his family. On the death of Alexander VI., being then in his twenty-second year, he made a descent upon La Marca, and possessed himself of his father's seigneury, in defiance of his infant nephew's title to it. His authority was recognised by the Holy See, at a time when the hereditary principle was loose, and a strong hand constituted the best claim. He found a warm supporter in Leo X., through sympathy of their common hatred for the della Rovere race, and received from him the lordship of Sinigaglia and prefecture of Rome, on the deprivation of Francesco Maria, along with the additional dignity of Duke of Camerino. After the death of Leo, Sigismondo for a few months made good his authority at Camerino, until supplanted by the usurper, whose title was conveniently completed by his nephew's murder; whereupon he became de jure its sovereign, and continued in undisturbed possession of his ill-gotten honours.

On the death of Duke Giovanni Maria, in August 1527, the male heir of the fief was Ercole Varana, whose eldest son, Matteo, had been destined by the Duke's will to become husband of his infant daughter Giulia, then but four years old. This arrangement was, however, resolutely opposed by his widow, Caterina Cibò,[*32] niece of Leo X.; and ere any steps could be taken to carry it into effect, the town was sacked by Sciarra Colonna, who, with his son-in-law, Rodolfo Varana, a bastard of its last lord, drove Caterina and her child into the citadel. Forgetting the double feud of Francesco Maria with her husband and her Medicean relations, she in her extremity besought his aid, offering to plight her daughter's hand to his son, Prince Guidobaldo. The proposal found him ingloriously inactive in Umbria, during the negotiations for release of Clement from S. Angelo, and, readily accepting it, he sent troops to relieve the suppliant lady, who continued for several years to administer the state in name of Giulia, with the passive countenance of her cousin the Pontiff. But the jealousy which rankled in the breast of his Holiness against the della Rovere princes, fretted at an arrangement so conducive to their aggrandisement, and at the first congress of Bologna he sought to break it off. The Duke's answer, as reported by Leonardi, was, that he would risk life and state rather than withdraw from the engagement, and that, if driven to defensive measures, the Pope should in the end bear the expenses of the war. With the recent and costly failure of Leo against Urbino in their recollection, the consistory would lend no sanction to the inclinations of their head, and so the matter rested until the return of Clement from France. Francesco Maria then formally applied for the papal sanction to a union of his son with the heiress of Camerino, but was put off on account of her tender age.

Meanwhile there occurred an incident characteristic of these lawless times. Like the other Italian commonwealths, Camerino had its exiles, expelled by faction or political convulsions, and Matteo, having rallied a body of these, surprised the city on the 13th of October, 1534, and seized the Duchess-Regent in her palace. His object being the abduction of Giulia, who had escaped into the fortress, he hurried her mother, in her dressing-gown, to its gates, and commanded her to summon the castellan to surrender. She, however, with extraordinary hardihood and self-possession, ordered him to fire upon the assailants; whereupon their leader drew his sword and threatened her with instant death. The heroic dame, after ejaculating a brief prayer, bared her neck and told him to strike; but Matteo, quailing before her daring spirit, and apprehensive of the infuriated populace, hastily withdrew, carrying her prisoner. He was speedily attacked by the citizens en masse, and the officer in charge of Caterina was glad to secure his own pardon by restoring her to liberty. A new inducement thus arose for placing the heiress in the hands of one competent to protect her; yet the redoubled instances made with the Pope for completion of her marriage were met by continued temporising, until the opportunity passed from his grasp.

On or about the 25th of September, 1534, Clement closed his life. Guicciardini, his countryman and protégé, tells us that he died hated by his court and suspected by princes, leaving a reputation rather odious than pleasing, and accounted severe, greedy, faithless, and illiberal. Muratori reviews his character more at length:—"He was a pontiff not destitute of political capacity; circumspect and dignified; dexterous in business, including dissimulation of every sort, and regarded by all his contemporaries as a man of double-dealing. Nature and experience had amply endowed him with many qualities befitting a temporal sovereign; but it would be less easy to detect in him those virtues becoming the Vicar of Christ, or to discover, amid the religious tempests of his times, what benefits he conferred upon the Church, what abuses or disorders he checked, though from him took its origin and pretext that terrible schism which yet dissevers so many nations from the true Church. He misapplied the papacy, its powers and resources, to instigate and maintain wars, which, besides many other mischiefs, brought upon Rome a dreadful sack, and upon his own dignity a shocking degradation. Still more did he turn these to despoil his native Florence of her freedom, and to aggrandise his own family rather by princely marriages than by honourable and discreet advancement. He died detested by the court for his avarice and close-fistedness, and still more loathed by the Roman people, who imputed to his policy all the miseries that befell their far-famed city." His versatile conduct has been fully exposed in these pages:

Finally, with him there originated national funded debt, that system which has so extensively affected the political, military, financial, commercial and monetary relations of the whole civilised world. Yet, though the results of his disastrous pontificate justified as they dictated these very sweeping charges, the testimony of the Venetian ambassadors, who describe the earlier portion of his reign, is much more favourable, at least to his motives. Whilst they represent him as timidly slow in adopting his measures, and as wavering and undecided in following them out, they commend his piety, his willingness to promote reforms, his conscientious observance of justice, the regularity of his habits, and the simplicity of his tastes. Possessing neither the liberality nor the epicurean propensities of his uncle, the contrast was unfavourable to his popularity; and those who had shared with Leo the pastimes of music and the chase sneered at discussions on engineering and hydraulics, which occupied the leisure of Clement.

As soon as the Pontiff's death was known to Francesco Maria, he sent his son to complete his nuptials at Camerino; but, within two hours after his arrival there, a courier brought from the Sacred College a protest against the marriage of the heiress during the vacancy of the Holy See.[33] This impediment was suggested by Cardinal Farnese in anticipation of his election, which took place as Paul III. on the 12th of October, the very day on which the bridal ceremony was completed. To balance this act of questionable fidelity to the See, the Duke, by well-timed movements, repressed attempts to assert the independence of Perugia and Rimini, and re-establish their hereditary seigneurs. But such zeal served him little with the new Pontiff, who at once made the Camerino succession a personal question, with a view to confer that state upon his own natural son. One of his earliest acts was accordingly to visit the contumacy of Caterina, her daughter, and son-in-law, with a stern monitory and summons to Rome, their disobedience of which was followed by excommunication, and by a movement of the pontifical troops to blockade Camerino.

Francesco Maria now interposed all his influence, backed by the imperial and the Venetian ambassadors, to induce Paul to a recognition of Giulia as heiress under the investiture given to her father, with remainder apparently to heirs general. Having vainly exhausted the expedients of diplomacy in this cause, he protested that the blame should not rest upon him of hostilities rendered necessary in his son's defence, and, sending provisions to Camerino, he marched at the head of ten thousand men to his support. At Sassoferrata he was met by a deputation of the citizens, laden with presents, who declared that though their walls were the Pope's, their hearts and substance were at his disposal. At Matelica he found his son and the ladies, before whom he passed his army in review, and marched home again without once encountering the papal troops under Gian Battista Savello. In fact, it was a war of the pen rather than the sword, for at every step he renewed notarial protests of duty and obedience to the Church, and regularly paid the excise, as well as the price of all the stores which he took up for the use of the Varana party. Apprehending that, if too far provoked, he would be supported by the Venetian arms and by the Emperor, the Pontiff now suspended martial measures, and pressed the point of law on the Roman courts.

Thus relieved from immediate anxiety in this matter, the Duke of Urbino resolved to pay a visit of compliment to Charles V. at Naples. After reaching the Adriatic frontier of that kingdom, he dismissed the strong escort which had guarded him through the ecclesiastical state, and proceeded with a small suite. The Emperor received him with much courtesy, and sought his counsel in the invasion of Provence, which he was preparing. Francesco Maria would gladly have referred the Camerino affair to his arbitration, but this being rejected by the Nuncio, he obtained simply the imperial mediation, which proved unavailing. He on this occasion presented Charles with two swords of tried temper, and a finger-ring containing a repeating watch, the latter made at Pesaro. In returning he took the route by Benevento to the Adriatic, and halting for the night at the convent of Sta. Maria degl'Eremiti, near Troia, he allowed some of his attendants to examine into a curious tradition which then obtained general credit. It was said that Diomed arriving here with a company of attendants, he and most of them died within a few days, and were duly interred; but that their souls were transmigrated into a species of bird elsewhere unknown, which ever since had haunted the marshy grounds. These were seen but rarely of an evening, and towards morning uttered sounds like human lamentations. They flew on the approach of any one not of Greek birth, but allowed persons of that nation to visit their haunts familiarly. Three of the Duke's suite having volunteered to watch, they all heard mournful voices about three hours before dawn, a phenomenon which the narrator makes no attempt to explain.[34] Having crossed to survey the Venetian possessions at Zara, the Duke returned home in 1536, on board two galleys of the Republic. The rest of that year was chiefly spent by him at his post in Lombardy, protecting the Venetian mainland during the passage of some imperial levies; but his charge was no longer an important one, as the long contests for Milan had been finally set at rest in the autumn of 1535, by the death of Duke Francesco Sforza, after naming Charles V. heir of his state.

Apulia and the Venetian possessions in the Levant being menaced in the following year by Sultan Solyman, a general confederation was effected for the defence of Italy and its dependencies, at the head of which were the Pope and the Emperor. The Duke of Urbino as captain-general undertook to raise five thousand men for this armament, but, the danger suddenly passing away, distracted counsels prevailed among the allies. Finally, on the 31st of January, 1538, a new league was patched up, to carry into effect a suggestion of Francesco Maria, by diverting the war into the Infidel's territory. Considering, however, his impending difficulties with Paul III., the Duke obtained a joint guarantee of the contracting powers for maintenance in his state, in confirmation of papal brieves to the same effect dated in the preceding November. About the same time his services to the Republic were acknowledged by the present of a palace in the street of Sta. Fosca, valued at 16,000 ducats.

The views of the allies and their captain-general for this enterprise were vast, comprehending the siege of Constantinople and an invasion of Egypt: and the latter was indefatigable in his endeavours to put the armament upon a footing equal to such extensive designs, both as to its numbers and material. The enterprise was invested with the sacred character of a religious war; but whilst Francesco Maria concentrated upon it the energies of a mind in its prime, and the exertions of a frame renovated by new specifics against his hereditary enemy the gout, the hand of death was upon him. Returned to Venice from a comprehensive survey of her defences in Dalmatia and Istria, he was attacked by sudden illness on the 20th of September. Foreseeing its fatal termination, he had himself taken by sea to Pesaro, which he reached on the 8th of October. Next day he showed himself on horseback to his people, but feeling unequal to the exertion he took to bed, and gradually lost strength. On Monday, the 21st, a fit deprived him of speech, yet he continued sensible until near daybreak of the 22nd, when he expired in religious penitence, after receiving the sacraments.

All authorities agree in attributing his death to poison, but neither Leoni nor Baldi hint at the person whose "envy" dictated that base vengeance.[*35] Giovio speaks positively as to detection having followed upon a searching inquiry, and points at those interested in the Camerino question as authors of the crime. Sardi and Tondini charge it upon Luigi Gonzaga, Count of Sabionetta, surnamed Rodomonte, the nephew of Francesco da Bozzolo, a condottiere who commanded Bourbon's cavalry at the assault of Rome, and who facilitated Clement's flight some months thereafter. This assertion, which is adopted by various writers, receives some confirmation from a story in the gossiping MS. we have already quoted, that Gonzaga, having accused Gian Giacomo Leonardi, a doctor of laws at Pesaro, of instigating the murder, was challenged by the latter, who thereby gained the favour of Duke Guidobaldo II., and with it the countship of Monte l'Abbate, near Pesaro.[36] On the other hand, this Rodomonte is stated in Les Genealogies des Maisons Souveraines to have died in 1528.

Whoever may have been author of the foul deed, it is agreed that the perpetrator was the Duke's Mantuan barber, who is generally said to have dropped a poisoned lotion into his ear. Baldi only mentions that he did it "in a new way," and gives no account of the medical examination of the body which, he asserts, took place. In an old chronicle of Sinigaglia, Guidobaldo is stated to have had the barber torn to pieces with pincers, and quartered in the streets of Pesaro.[37]

After a cast in plaster had been taken from his features, the body was dressed in a quilted doublet and hose of black satin, under his inlaid armour, over which was the ducal tunic, and, above all, the mantle of crimson satin embroidered in gold, which he had worn as Prefect at the coronation of Charles V. Next evening it was borne, with torches, by the principal courtiers, to the great hall, and there placed upon an elevated catafalque of black and gold, on which were arranged his ducal helmet, three magnificent head pieces, and as many silver batons of command; five standards which he had captured being set round with other trophies. It was watched all night, and lay in state till the following evening, when it was coffined in the dress just described. The same night it was taken on a litter to Urbino by torchlight, escorted by a vast following on horseback and on foot, under soaking rain. At the confines of the respective territories it was delivered over to the authorities and clergy of that city, preceded by mutes and mourners of various grades; among whom was led the Duke's favourite jennet, covered with black velvet, his ducal mail and morion being carried by a page in deep weeds. Reaching the city at sunrise, the procession was joined by the chief magistrates, nobility, clergy, and citizens, and so arrived, through tearful crowds, at the church of Sta. Chiara, again to lie in state until evening, when it was stripped of its armour, and there committed to the dust at the left horn of the altar. It was subsequently deposited, by his grandson Francesco Maria II., in a tomb raised over the spot by Bartolomeo Ammanati, from the design of Girolamo Genga, which was eventually removed as inconveniently cumbering the church. The following epitaph, written by desire of the widowed Duchess, and ascribed to the pen of Bembo, is panelled into the wall:—

"To Duke Francesco Maria, endowed with the most comprehensive capacity for war and peace. His hereditary states, thrice lost by violence, he thrice by valour regained, and ruled them, when reconquered, with moderation; he commanded the Ecclesiastical, the Florentine, and the Venetian forces; finally, he was chosen general-in-chief for the Turkish war, but was cut off ere it opened. Leonora, his most devoted wife, placed this to her most meritorious lord, and to herself."

One more ceremonial was wanting to complete the measure of respectful duty to the deceased sovereign. On the 13th [or 22nd] of November, his obsequies were celebrated in the cathedral of Urbino. The church decorations, the catafalque, the vast concourse of clergy, of deputations, and of people of all classes, were such as the mournful solemnity required, and the sincere grief of his subjects dictated. The function was conducted by Federigo Fregoso, Archbishop of Salerno, whom we have formerly known at the court of Duke Guidobaldo I., and the funeral oration was spoken by Maestro Benedetto Milesio. Another, by Lorenzo Contarini, was pronounced at Venice, where the Signory ordered a celebration of his obsequies with unwonted splendour, besides voting him an equestrian statue in bronze. This was never executed, but another statue of him, made by Bandini for his grandson, the last Duke of Urbino, was presented to the Republic under touching circumstances, which we shall detail in the [fifty-fourth chapter] of this work.

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.

"Your Mother.

"The 8th of August."[44]

The widowed Duchess Leonora remained at Pesaro, stricken with grief, from which she slowly recovered to find a solace in her children. By her husband's will she had 28,000 scudi, besides the life-rent of his Neapolitan fiefs at Sora, which were left in remainder to their younger son Giulio. To each of the daughters were provided 20,000 scudi. She died at Gubbio, in 1543. Her devoted affection to her husband was accompanied by much sterling worth of character; but she was especially distinguished for that equanimity of temper which marks the expression of her admirable portrait in the Florence Gallery.

The children of Francesco Maria were these:—

1. Federigo, born in March, 1511, and died young.

2. Guidobaldo, his successor, born 2nd April, 1514.

3. Ippolita, married in 1531, to Don Antonio d'Aragona, son of the Duke of Montalto, in Naples.

4. Giulia, married in 1548, to Alfonso d'Este, Marquis of Montechio, son of Duke Alfonso I. From her descend the sovereign Dukes of Modena and Reggio.

5. Elisabetta, married in 1552, to Alberico Cibò, Marquis of Massa, and died in 1561. From her descended the sovereign Dukes of Massa Carrara.

6. Giulio, who was born at Mantua on the 8th of April, and created by his father Duke of Sora. He was educated for the Church, where his talents and application to business merited the shower of preferments which his high birth insured him, and which began by his nomination as Cardinal of S. Pietro in Vinculis by Paul III., when fourteen years of age. In 1548 he was made Bishop of Urbino, a dignity which he resigned three years later, on being appointed Legate of Rieti and Terni. In 1560 he had the see of Vicenza, but soon exchanged it for Recanati. In 1565, he was promoted to be Archbishop of Ravenna, to which was added, in 1570, the see of Tusculum; and, in 1578, when within a few months of his death, he became Archbishop of Urbino, having for some years previously been Legate of Umbria, and governor of Loreto. In these high posts he united to excellent business habits, and great energy in the discharge of his duties, a taste for magnificence, which made him popular with all classes. By his own family he was regarded as a valuable counsellor in every difficulty, and he greatly promoted the government of his brother and nephew, to whom he served as a sort of prime minister. His career of honour and utility was closed by a premature death, on the 5th September, 1578, when but forty-three years of age. Under his superintendence was drawn up a code of Regulations [Riformazioni] of Justice, which was published with his name in 1549. It does not appear in what way the dukedom of Sora and Arci passed from him, but, before the end of the century, it had been granted by Philip II. to Giacomo Boncompagno, natural son of Pope Gregory XIII. From his descendants, the Princes of Piombino, that fief passed, about the end of last century, to the Neapolitan government; and its picturesque baronial towers at Isola, once the scene of their festive revels, are now degraded into a woollen factory. The Cardinal left two natural sons, who were both legitimated by Pius V.:—

1. Ippolito della Rovere, who had from his father San Lorenzo and Castel Leone above Sinigaglia, and was made Marquis of San Lorenzo in 1584, on his marriage with Isabella, daughter of Giacomo Vitelli dell'Amatrice, with 30,000 scudi of dowry. He had issue, 1. Giulio, who was disinherited for bad conduct; 2. Livia, born 1585, who became Duchess of Urbino in 1599; 3. Lucrezia, who married the Marchese Marc Antonio Lanti, and had issue.

2. Giuliano, Prior of Corinaldo, and Abbot of San Lorenzo.

[BOOK SEVENTH]
OF GUIDOBALDO DELLA ROVERE,
FIFTH DUKE OF URBINO

[CHAPTER XLII]

Succession of Duke Guidobaldo II.—He loses Camerino and the Prefecture of Rome—The altered state of Italy—Death of Duchess Giulia—The Duke’s remarriage—Affairs of the Farnesi.

THE course of our narrative seems to offer a not altogether fanciful analogy to that of the Tiber. Issuing from the rugged Apennines, this, with puny rill, is gradually recruited from their many valleys until it has gained the force and energy of a brawling torrent, and has absorbed a goodly portion of the Umbrian waters. So, too, the former has brought us past scenes of martial prowess and creations of mediæval policy. It has afforded us glimpses of townships where civil institutions revived, and letters were cherished, the petty capitals from whose courts civilisation was diffused. Carrying us across the blood-watered and time-defaced Campagna, it has conducted us to Rome at the moment of her lamentable sack by barbarian hordes. Henceforward our history, like the river, will decline in interest. The sluggish and turbid stream has little to enliven that dreary and degenerate land through which it must still conduct us. This contrast will be especially irksome in the life of Duke Guidobaldo II., who kept much aloof from the few events of stirring interest which then occurred in the Peninsula. We shall therefore hasten over it, in the hope that those who favour us with their company may find, in the incidents of his successor, a somewhat renovated interest, and may be gratified to learn by what means our mountain duchy came to be finally absorbed in the papal dominions, just as the tawny river is lost in the pathless sea.

FACSIMILES OF SIGNATURES

[[Enlarge]]

The birthday of Guidobaldo II. has been variously stated; most authorities fix it on the 2nd of April, 1514, although the customary donative appears from an old chronicle to have been voted by the municipality of Urbino on the 17th of March. The Prince saw the light at a moment inauspicious for his dynasty. Under the fostering care of Julius II. it had attained its culminating point; and although his successor still smiled upon the far-spreading oak of Umbria,[*45] the intrigues of Leo X. were already preparing its overthrow. The infant had scarcely passed his second year, when the ducal family were driven from their states, and sought a friendly shelter at the Mantuan capital. Before their five years of exile in Lombardy had gone by, Guidobaldo is said to have been sent to the university of Padua. His early education was committed to Guido Posthumo Silvestro, who describes him as displaying, even in childhood, the spirit of his father, and of his grand-uncle Julius II., whilst his mild temper and sweet expression were those of his mother.[46] The preceptor, a native of Pesaro, was tempted by attachment to his early patrons, the Sforza, to avenge them with his pen, on the invasion of the Duke Valentino, upon whom and whose race he charged, in some bitter lampoons mentioned by Roscoe, all those crimes which have become matter of history. But years rendered him more pliant; for when another revolution came round, the attentions he had met with at the court of Urbino did not prevent his resorting, on Duke Francesco Maria's exile, to the protection of Leo, or lavishing eulogy and flattery upon that Pontiff. At Rome, he enjoyed the consideration there freely bestowed upon poets and wits, among whom Giovio assigns him a conspicuous place; but the life of luxurious indulgence to which he was tempted having undermined his health, he died in 1521.

Our authorities, barren of interest for the domestic life of Duke Francesco Maria,[*47] are altogether a blank as regards his children, and we know nothing of the Prince beyond the fact of his sharing his mother's virtual arrest at Venice in 1527. His early tastes seemed to have turned upon horses: in 1529, he ordered from Rome a set of housings for his charger, with minute instructions accompanying the pattern; ten years later, the Grand Duke Cosimo I. regretted his inability to find for him such horses as he had desired; and he appears to have paid 70 golden scudi for one from Naples. In 1843, I was shown, at Pesaro, the wooden model of a beautiful little Arab, which had long been preserved in the Giordani family, covered with the skin of his favourite charger, a fragment of which remained. We have seen Guidobaldo complimented by Clement VII. in 1529, and in that year he had a condotta from Venice, for seventy-five men-at-arms, and a hundred and fifty light horse, with 1000 ducats of pay for himself, 100 for each man-at-arms, and 50 for each horseman. In 1532, his father, on departing from Lombardy, left him regent of the duchy. The circumstances of his marriage, on the 12th of October, 1534, to Giulia Varana, then but eleven years of age, and her questionable succession to her paternal state of Camerino, have been fully detailed in our [preceding chapter].[48] From 1534 till his father's death, in 1538, he seems to have exercised the rights of sovereignty, with the title of Duke of Camerino, unchallenged by the Pontiff, who had recalled his censures. But no sooner was Paul III. relieved from the influential opposition of Francesco Maria, than his designs upon that principality were firmly carried out.

GUIDOBALDO II., DUKE OF URBINO

From a picture in the Albani Palace in Rome

We possess from an eye-witness these ample details as to the ceremonial of investing Guidobaldo with his hereditary succession:—"On the evening of Thursday [25th of October], the day of the Duke's interment, his son the Prince arrived at Urbino about nine o'clock, attended by all the nobility, gentry, and officials, including Stefano Vigerio, the governor, and many more, who had gone out to meet him. Dismounting in the palace-yard, he proceeded to the ducal chamber, which, as well as the great hall, was hung with black. There he dismissed the strangers to lodgings provided for them in the town, and passed next day in grief and absolute seclusion along with his consort, preparations being meanwhile made to traverse the city.[49] Accordingly, on Saturday morning, mass of the Holy Spirit having been said by the Bishop of Cagli, who thereafter breakfasted in the palace, the citizens and populace crowded to the piazza, where the doctors and nobles assembled to accompany the priors. Thither also came a hundred youths of good family, in doublets of sky-blue velvet, with gilt swords by their side, followed by a vast many children bearing olive-boughs. The new Duke having been meanwhile dressed in white velvet and satin, with cap and plume of the same colour, Captain-general Luc-Antonio Brancarini marshalled the procession. The gonfaloniere marched first, in a jerkin of black velvet under a long surcoat of black damask lined with crimson, begirt with a gold-mounted sword; his cap on his head and his mace lowered. He was followed by the nobility, the doctors, and citizens; and on entering the palace they halted in the basement suite towards the garden, which were all hung with tapestry, the windows of the great hall being occupied by the Duchess and her ladies in magnificent attire. When all was ready, the Prince issued forth into the Piazza, and advanced to the cathedral, followed by the officials and train. At the top of the steps he knelt on a rich carpet and brocade cushions, whilst the bishop, chapter, and clergy came out, and with the usual ceremonies brought him into the church, and to the high altar, before which other ceremonials were gone through, and he offered an oblation-coin of ten Mantuan ducats. Meanwhile his charger was brought to the foot of the steps, covered to the neck with a housing of silver tissue, and other trappings, including a white plume. It was led by seven lads of the chief Urbino families, Bonaventura, Peruli, Passionei, Cornei, Corboli, and Muccioli, all richly apparelled, and two of them holding goads. There was also a horse for the Gonfaloniere with velvet harness, led by two lads. The fore-mentioned hundred youths and numerous children having ranged themselves around, the Prince and Gonfaloniere descended the steps and mounted their steeds, and the latter, drawing his sword, proclaimed aloud 'The Duke, the Duke; Feltro, Feltro; Guidobaldo, Guidobaldo!' the cry being taken up and repeated by all. The cortège, making a circuit by Pian di Marcato, Valbona, Santa Lucia, and Santa Chiara, returned to the palace, where the Duke dismounted. His charger and mantle were then seized, as their perquisite, by the youths, who, mounting one of their number, Antonio dei Galli, again went through the city crying and making merry. The Duke, having taken his seat with his consort, received the gonfaloniere, priors, and citizens to kiss hands.

Alinari

? GUIDOBALDO II. DELLA ROVERE

From the picture by Titian in the Pitti Gallery, Florence
(Probably once in the Ducal Collection)

"On the following morning, there came in envoys from various places to offer their condolence, wearing mourning robes that swept the ground. The first who had audience were the gonfaloniere and priors of Urbino, and then those from San Marino. After breakfast, the other communities were admitted without order, in consequence of a wrangle for precedence between Gubbio and Pesaro, Cagli and Fossombrone, and this continued till seven o'clock in the evening. Next Monday being the festival of San Simone, the oath of allegiance was administered on Tuesday. A stage covered with black was erected between the two windows of the great hall, on which stood a bench with a coverlet of black velvet, and thereon an open missal, with a miniature of the crucifixion. After breakfasting, the Duke seated himself on this stage, with Messer Stefano, one of the judges; and the deputies from communes being assembled, with their commissions in their hands, Messer Stefano called upon the magistrates of Urbino with about a hundred of the citizens, desiring them to swear fidelity, as was right and customary, which they did, formally placing their hands on the crucifixion. Thereafter, the envoys of other communities were brought up and sworn; but on account of the aforesaid wrangling, those of Pesaro, Sinigaglia, Fossombrone, and Cagli were sent back to take the oaths at home. Next day, however, on their humble petition, those of Cagli and Fossombrone were received, along with some other highland deputies who had come in late; but Pesaro, Sinigaglia, and the vicariat, took the oaths before the vice-dukes in their respective cities. On the following Tuesday, there arrived four envoys from Fano, and two from Città di Castello, to offer condolence, who were honourably received; and next day came those of Camerino and Rimini, men of high station. On Thursday, Messer Quaglino, ambassador from the Duke of Ferrara, dismounted at Pesaro, to condole with the dowager Duchess, and thence proceeded with a suite of five to Urbino, where he was lodged for three days in the Passionei Palace, and had audience. At the same time, the like formalities were discharged by Vicenzo Schippo, who came with an escort of ten, as representative of the Duke of Mantua. On Sunday, deputations from all parts of the duchy went to offer their duty at Pesaro to the widowed Duchess."

The smouldering embers of the Camerino quarrel soon burst forth, when Paul III. found that the Emperor's influence and the arms of Venice were no longer arrayed against his grasping pretensions, and that the weight of the struggle had devolved from a renowned warrior to an untried youth. In order to supplement the legal deficiencies of his case, the Pontiff had in 1537 conferred certain estates upon Ercole Varana, on condition of his claims upon the succession of Camerino being assigned to his own grandson Ottavio Farnese; but the death of Francesco Maria having released him from the necessity of temporising, he at once sent a body of troops into that duchy, under Stefano Colonna or Alessandro Vitelli. The young Duke, relying on the support of Venice and the Medici, was at first disposed to resist, but finding himself deserted, soon abandoned the idea. He had in the history of his family too many examples of the perils of papal nepotism; and it was obvious that the times were past when church feudatories had anything to hope from single-handed contests with their over-lord. In the certainty that to provoke this would be to hazard all, he made up his mind to an unwilling compromise, surrendering his wife's rights to Camerino for a full investiture of his own dukedom, and the sum of 78,000 golden scudi as a poor compensation for her inheritance. This transaction was completed on the 8th of January, 1539; nor was it the only mortification he was destined to undergo from the ambition of the Farnesi. The Prefecture of Rome, although held by his father and grandfather, was a personal dignity at the disposal of the new Pope, who conferred it upon his own grandson Ottavio. In the end of 1538, he also married that youth, then but fifteen, to Margaret of Austria, natural daughter of Charles V. and widow of Duke Alessandro de' Medici, who had been slain by his cousin Lorenzino, within a year after his marriage. That imperious dame, who brought Ottavio a handsome dower in lands about Ortona on the Adriatic, wrought upon the weakness of Paul, until in 1545, she obtained for her husband's father, Pier-Luigi, natural son of his Holiness, the sovereign duchy of Parma and Piacenza. In order to put a gloss upon this dismemberment of the ecclesiastical states, and to accommodate the whole arrangement to the modified nepotism of his age, the Pontiff stipulated for a resurrender by Ottavio to the Holy See of Camerino and Nepi. These remained part of the papal temporalities, whilst their Lombard duchy gave to the Farnese family an important position among the sovereign houses of Europe.

Although the altered circumstances of Italy which humbled her pride had also arrested her convulsions, these untoward events, at the outset of his reign, proved to Guidobaldo that her few remaining principalities were far from secure. To strengthen his position became therefore a natural policy; and although neither the Emperor nor the Venetian Signory had lent a willing ear to his representations on the subject of Camerino, he sent to remind the former of his promise to give him a company of men-at-arms, whilst, with the Pope's permission, he accepted from the latter a two years' engagement. The terms of this condotta, which was dated in 1539, and continued in force until 1552, were one hundred men-at-arms and as many light cavalry, with 4000 ducats of piatto or yearly pay, and an obligation to have in readiness ten of his father's veteran captains, whose monthly pay was fixed at 15 scudi in peace, and 25 in war. Four years later he was requested by the Republic to serve them in another capacity, by complimenting Charles V. in their name on his passage into Germany, on which occasion he was accompanied by the vile sycophant Pietro Aretino.

In our [fourteenth chapter], we had occasion to consider the change which military affairs underwent in Italy about the time of the first French invasion, and we have seen in Duke Federigo of Urbino one of the last condottieri of the old sort. But it was not until the fall of Rome and Florence had extinguished Italian independence, that military adventure was entirely abolished; and it is curious to find in his grandson Duke Francesco Maria I., not only the latest captain who gathered laurels under that system, but to see him joining with the Pope and the Medici to exterminate those armed hordes which survived its mercenary armaments, and which, like the restless spirits of a departed generation, troubled the repose of their degenerate sons.[50] Their occupation was indeed gone. Tamed by invaders whom they were powerless to resist, domestic broils no longer demanded their services. Their forays were become intolerable in a land where peace was the price of freedom. How far the earlier adoption of Machiavelli's plans of defence might have availed against ultramontane hosts were now a vain speculation; they were only destined for trial after the sacrifice had been consummated. The national militia suggested by him was not enrolled until there was no longer a nationality to defend—until it was needed but as an armed police under foreign control.

This new force had been embodied in our duchy under the name of the Feltrian Legion, by a proclamation dated 1st of March, 1533, and it so fully satisfied the late Duke's expectations that he gradually increased his militia to five thousand men in four regiments. Such was the description of troops which henceforward maintained order at Urbino, or were subsidised on foreign service. But their sinews, hardened by a rude climate and rugged homes, maintained for them the reputation gained by their ancestors; and although Duke Guidobaldo II. lived in quiet times, and pretended to no heroic aspirations, we find him accepting of commands offered chiefly for the sake of securing his hardy mountaineers.

The abject position in which Italy was left after the wars of Clement VII. has already been noticed. Her internal conflicts were at an end. Of those states whose struggles for independence or for mastery had during long ages convulsed her, the lesser had been absorbed by the more powerful, and these in their turn had bowed to foreign dominion or foreign influence. She was tranquillised but trodden down, pacified but prostrate. Her history became but a series of episodes in the annals of ultramontane nations, on whom her few remaining princes and commonwealths grew into dependent satellites. Even the popes, no longer arbiters of European policy, sought a reflected consequence by attaching themselves to the interests of France, Spain, or the Empire. Nor were they losers by the change to the same degree as other Peninsular powers. The papacy was indeed shorn in part of its temporal lustre. It no longer directed the diplomacy of Christendom, nor did it waste its resources upon bloody and bootless campaigns. But as its energies were gradually weaned from general politics, they became more concentrated upon ecclesiastical affairs. The small speck on the horizon towards which Leo X. had scarcely directed a look or an anxiety, was now rapidly overspreading the sky, and already excluded the rays of Catholicism from a large portion of Central Europe. His successors, threatened with the loss of spiritual as well as temporal ascendancy, had the wisdom to make a stand for maintenance of the former, leaving the latter to its fate. The spirit of popery from aggressive became conservative; its military tactics gave place to theological weapons. It was by Paul III. that a vigorous opposition was first made to the Reformation, the primary steps taken towards that Catholic reaction, which Paul IV. and Pius V. afterwards so successfully promoted, as not only to check the rapid progress of Protestantism, but to regain a portion of the lost ground. Seconding the zeal of the old monastic orders, which had been revived in the Theatines,[*51] he, in 1540, recruited to it the cold clear-sighted cunning of the Jesuits. Two years afterwards he re-established the Inquisition,[*52] and in 1545 opened the Council of Trent, whose sittings were not finally closed until eighteen years later, when it had completed that bulwark which still constitutes a stronghold of the Roman church. Extirpation of heresy henceforward became the pervading principle of the papacy, and the engrossing dogma of its zealots; the object for which councils deliberated, pontiffs admonished, legates intrigued. For an end so sanctified no means were accounted base. When argument failed threats were at hand. From reason an appeal lay to the rack. Thus was the wavering power of the Keys restored or confirmed over much of Europe, and an alliance was effected between political and spiritual despotism for their mutual maintenance and common defence. The success which crowned these new efforts far exceeded any that mere mundane aims had ever attained. The re-influx of Catholicism was in some instances more signal, as it was more inexplicable, than had been the recent spread of the Reformation.[*53] Although fatal to freedom of thought, its influence proved highly favourable to morals. The revival of religion was attended with a happy reformation of manners, after examples emanating from high places. The sins, or at least the scenes, that had disgraced the Borgian and Medicean courts no longer met the eye, but were replaced by a semblance of ascetic virtue. The new religious orders, being of more rigid rule, tended by precept and example to restore discipline, and to purify, at least externally, the cup and the platter. Prelatic luxury was curtailed, brazen vice retired from public view, and the free exercise of papal nepotism was finally restrained by Pius V., who, in 1567, prohibited the alienation by his successors of church property or jurisdictions. But in these themes our narrative has no part. The battles of orthodoxy were chiefly fought beyond the Alps; the reformed morality of the papal court was exampled in its own capital: in neither had Urbino any near interest.

Guidobaldo's condotta from the Signory being renewed in 1546 upon more favourable terms (namely, 15,000 scudi of pay for his company, and 5000 of piatto for himself), he was invested about midsummer, by an imposing ceremonial pompously described in the letter of an eye-witness among the archives of Urbino. His jewelled cap and diamond collar are mentioned as superb, and his sword is valued at 700 scudi. After high mass in St. Mark's, the great standard being unfurled and supported by three bearers, and the baton of wrought silver placed in his hands, the Doge thus addressed him: "Lord Duke, we presented to your Excellency this standard of our St. Mark the Evangelist, in the wonted form, and in token of supremacy; and we pray the Lord our God that it tend to the weal and service of all Christendom, but especially to the defence of this state. We give it to your Excellency, confiding in your loyalty and prudence, well assured that you will use it with courage and faith conformable to your deserts. And we hand to your Excellency the baton, therewith designing you head and governor of our forces, and transferring to you the obedience of all our military: it is our will that you be obeyed, honoured, and respected by our several condottieri and soldiery, as representing our Signory itself. May it please the Divine Majesty that all be well ordered, to the well-being and furtherance of the Christian community, and of this our serene Republic." The Duke replied, "I most willingly accept, most Serene Prince, the distinction granted me by your Serenity, and with the sure hope of maintaining the good opinion you repose in me, which shall be nowise disappointed. I shall ever pray our Lord God graciously to vouchsafe me an early occasion of honourably serving your serene government, that I may thereby prove my good will. And I feel sure that your Serenity will have cause to be well satisfied at giving me this rank, which, without reserve of life or fortune, like one aware of his obligation to your Serenity, it will be my care so to hold as to augment my claims upon your favour." The function being over, the Duke was escorted by an imposing military pageant to his palace, where a splendid banquet was set out, of which, however, the jealous regulations of the Republic did not permit her officials to partake.

The court having gone to spend Christmas of 1547 in the mild climate of Fossombrone, the Duke, in January, 1548, again repaired to Venice, intending to return home for carnival. On the frontier he was met by news of his consort's serious illness, and immediately sent expresses to summon from Padua and Ferrara, Frigimiliza and Brasavolo, two famous physicians. Under them and her own doctors, the Duchess rallied for a time, but died on the 17th of February,—"a very religious, charitable, and lettered lady, and a great loss to the state." Her body was borne by torchlight to Urbino with the usual solemnities, and, after lying in state, was entombed in Santa Chiara on the 19th. The funeral service was performed at Urbino the 24th of March, with due pomp, and a ceremonial preserved by Tondini. The procession consisted of the Duchess's household, twenty-two in number, with thirty-nine of the Duke's; Guidobaldo and his brother; the ambassadors of five friendly states; twenty-two principal nobility of the duchy; forty captains; the municipality of Urbino, with seventy leading citizens; deputies from thirty-six other towns; in all, about three hundred and sixty persons. The obsequies were celebrated in the cathedral, which was illuminated by a hundred and eighty-six wax lights of four pounds each, and above two hundred torches. The funeral oration was pronounced by Sperone Speroni, and is published among his works.

Although, in somewhat startling contrast to these details of death, we here introduce a letter written by the Duchess, which may interest our lady readers. It is addressed to Marchetti, her steward of the household, then at Venice, and is printed in his life by Tondini:—

"Master Steward, our well-beloved,

"This is to inform you that, on your return with his Excellency, our Lord and Consort, you must by all means bring as much of the finest and most beautiful scarlet serge, such as is made on purpose for the cardinals, as may suffice to make us a petticoat, taking care that it be at once handsome, good, and distingué. You can ascertain the necessary quantity. Here they tell us that if the stuff be two braccie braccie will be required, and more if narrower, say nine or ten. See that you get full measure, and let the quantity be ample rather than deficient, so that we may not have to mar it for want of cloth. And if you cannot find such serge, bring some beautiful, good, and thin Venice cloth, being careful that it be light in texture, and that the colour be of the most bright and lively scarlet that can be found. Use all diligence that we be well suited and satisfied, if you would do us a grateful service. Bring also some of those books and rosettes, as they are called, which are commonly made there of thin white wax tapers; and so good health to you. From Fossombrone, the 6th of October, 1541.

"Julia Duchess of Urbino."

The Duchess had given birth to a son in 1544, but was survived only by a daughter Virginia: her marriage had been interested, and her lord lost no time in contracting another from similar motives, on the excuse of requiring a male heir. In August he went to kiss the Pope's feet at Rome, on occasion of negotiating a new matrimonial alliance with his granddaughter, Vittoria Farnese. On the 30th he returned home, and next month again met his Holiness at Perugia. The nuptials were interrupted by the assassination of the bride's father, Duke Pier-Luigi, whose son had supplanted Guidobaldo at Camerino, and whose tyranny in his new state of Parma sharpened the daggers of his outraged nobles. The ceremony, however, took place on the 30th of January, 1548, when Vittoria, who had been previously affianced to Duke Cosimo I., was twenty-eight years of age. On the 2nd of February she visited Urbino, amid many demonstrations of respect, among which was a muster of forty lads in her livery of yellow velvet, to each of whom an allowance of seven scudi had been voted by the city; but it was the Duke's pleasure that they should pay for their own dress. Art, too, had contributed its honours, and Vasari narrates how Battista Franco aided in decorating the triumphal arches designed by Girolamo Genga for her reception. Similar welcome was given her at Gubbio, where the youths wore purple velvet with white sleeves and white lilies.[*54] Coincident with, and in consequence of, this marriage, the Duke received from Paul a new investiture of his states, and a cardinal's hat, with the title of S. Pietro in Vinculis, for his brother Giulio, who, though but in his fifteenth year, was soon after named Legate of Perugia. On the 20th of February, 1549, there was born a prince, who succeeded to the dukedom as Francesco Maria II., and the grateful people manifested their loyalty by customary congratulations and donatives.[55] These happy events were, ere long, interrupted by the death of Paul III. on the 10th of November, followed by that of the dowager Duchess of Urbino, on the 14th of February, thereafter.

The little state of San Marino forms a solecism in the polity of Europe, having preserved its petty limits and its purely popular government during many centuries, whilst all the other republics of Italy successfully yielded to personal ambition or foreign conquest.[*56] For its independence during the ceaseless changes of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries it was debtor to the Dukes of Urbino, whose aid was ever at hand when their name proved an inadequate safeguard. The nature of the protection which they accorded to that republic is shown in the subjoined document, which seems worthy of insertion from its resemblance to those letters of maintenance usually granted about the same period by the greater barons of Scotland, in favour of less powerful neighbours and friends, among the minor nobility, and even the burgh communities.

"Protection under which, at the instance of the Liberty of S. Marino, pressed by its envoys, the Lord Duke Guidobaldo II. assumes the aforesaid Liberty, its men and territory, following therein in this the course adopted by Duke Federico, Guido I., Francesco Maria his father, and others of his house: promising to the best of his ability, and at all times, to defend, protect, and guard it against all persons whatsoever who may seek or wish to injure it, whether in respect to its possessions, subjects, state, or pre-eminence, holding its enemies for his enemies, and its allies for his allies; and further, undertaking to accord to it all possible aid and favour in the maintenance of its independence and freedom: the said envoys, on the other part, obliging themselves to the Lord Duke, in name of the foresaid, with all their exertion and power to assist, uphold, and preserve the subjects, state, honours, and dignity of the said Lord Duke, against whatsoever person, state, or potentate who may make attempts against him; promising to hold the friends of his Excellency as their friends, and his foes as their foes, and to pay him at all times the respect due to a faithful and good protector. At the requisition of Ser Bartolo Nursino, 20th May, 1549."

It was Guidobaldo's policy to maintain with the Holy See those amicable relations which his second marriage had established, and he had accordingly, on the death of Paul III., sent some troops to Perugia, in order to secure the quiet succession of Julius III. This being effected, he went to Rome on a visit of congratulation to the new Pontiff, accompanied by Aretino, whose venal appetites were ever on the watch for opportunities of bringing his sycophancy to a good market. The Pope disappointed him of the anticipated guerdon, but, aware of the ready transition from adulation to slander, disarmed his tongue of its venom by a gracious accolade, kissing the forehead of this "scourge of princes." The first token of favour bestowed on the Duke by his Holiness was his nomination as governor of Fano in 1551. In the following year he spent some time at Verona with the Venetian army, accompanied by his boy, who there had an illness which occasioned him much anxiety. This command was a somewhat anomalous one, with the title of Governor of the Republican forces, which he vainly negotiated to exchange for that of General. Disgusted by this refusal, he listened to an overture from his brothers-in-law for transferring his services to the French King. Ottavio Farnese, now Duke of Parma, apprehending some hostile intentions from the imperialists, had applied, in 1551, to the Pope for succours, in order to guarantee his possession of that state; but, unable to spare reinforcements or money, Julius had recommended him to take his own measures for defence. Acting on this advice, he had recourse to Henry II., from whom he accepted a condotta, on condition of Parma being supplied with a French garrison. Such a step could not fail to alarm the Emperor, who, representing that Ottavio had, in fact, made over his duchy to France, brought upon him the thunders of the Vatican. The inducement offered to Guidobaldo by the Farnesi for following them into Henry's service was that the King should renounce the supposed claims upon Urbino competent to his wife Caterina de' Medici, in right of her father Lorenzo, its usurping Duke. But the decided measures adopted by the Pontiff cut short this negotiation, and we hear no more of pretensions which were doubtless vamped up to serve a temporary purpose. Although the Pontiff was nominally a party to the petty war which ensued in Lombardy, it was, in fact, but a chapter in the prolonged struggle between the houses of Hapsburg and Bourbon, with which our narrative has no concern. Another episode in the same contest was more alarming to Central Italy, and, when Tuscany became involved in the strife, it seemed well for Julius to stand on the defensive. Accordingly, in January, 1553, he named Guidobaldo captain-general of the Church, who, in April, proceeded to Rome for his installation; and accompanied by a brilliant staff, reviewed the pontifical troops.

Siena, originally Ghibelline, had, during the recurring convulsions of a nominally democratic government, remained in some measure devoted to the imperialist party. But, irritated by the licence of their Spanish garrison, and alarmed at a rumoured intention of Charles V. to seize their state, and exchange it with the Farnesi for that of Parma, the citizens, in 1552, foolishly listened to the intrigues of French emissaries, and, with the Count of Pitigliano's aid, ousted their oppressors. In the campaign which followed, Siena was under French protection, whilst Florence efficiently co-operated with the imperialists against her, the Pope maintaining an armed neutrality. The duties of Guidobaldo were thus limited to an occupation of Bologna, in order to protect the ecclesiastical territories and his own state, on the passage of French troops into Tuscany. That his wishes favoured the independence of Siena appears from his having, at the election of Marcellus II., in April, 1554, recommended an intervention in its favour; but it was too late, as the city had already capitulated, and was soon after finally annexed to Florence.

The successor of Julius III., who died in March, 1555, was Marcello Cervini, Bishop of Gubbio; and the Duke of Urbino congratulated himself on seeing a personal friend mount the throne of St. Peter. But his satisfaction was transient. Popular superstition awarded an early death to any Pontiff who should take for title his Christian name: the fate of Adrian VI. had verified the omen; and, after a reign of but three weeks, Marcellus was carried to the tomb. Guidobaldo immediately took armed possession of the Roman gates for protection of the conclave; but the election of Cardinal Caraffa as Paul IV. passed off satisfactorily, and his energy was rewarded by a confirmation in his command, and the restoration of the Prefecture of Rome, with reversion to his son, an honour which, though long held by his father and grandfather, had been enjoyed for the last seventeen years by the Farnesi.

[CHAPTER XLIII]

The Duke’s domestic affairs—Policy of Paul IV.—The Duke enters the Spanish service—Rebellion at Urbino severely repressed—His death and character—His children.

THIS somewhat barren portion of our narrative may be appropriately enlivened by the marriage of Princess Elisabetta, sister of Guidobaldo, to Alberico Cibò, Prince of Massa. The bride left Urbino on the 26th of September, accompanied by the Duke and Duchess, and remained at Castel Durante for two days. She was convoyed for some miles farther by the court, and parted from her family with copious tears on both sides. That night she slept at S. Angelo, and next day reached Città di Castello, escorted by an immense train of the principal residents to the Vitelli Palace. There she was entertained at an almost regal banquet, with about fifty gentle dames, each more beautiful than the other, and all richly dressed; after which there followed dancing, to the music of many rare instruments and choruses, till near daybreak. Travelling in a litter by easy journeys, she reached Florence in four days, and was welcomed with magnificent public honours. She entered the city in a rich dress of green velvet, radiant with jewels, and passed two days there, the guest of Chiappino Vitelli, who spent 2000 scudi upon four entertainments in her honour, including a ball and masquerade. On going to court, she was received by the Grand Duke and Duchess as a sister, with much kindness, and a world of professions. Near Pisa she was met by her bridegroom, at the head of a cavalcade which resembled an army marching to the assault of the city; and his mother, though almost dying, had herself carried to the bed in which the bride had sought repose, to embrace her with maternal affection. More acceptable, perhaps, than this singular visit, was the present received from her in the morning, of two immense pearls, and a golden belt studded with costly jewels. The pair entered the capital next day, amid a crash of artillery, martial music, and bells, preceded by fifty youths in yellow velvet and white plumes. The festive arches delighted the narrator, but still more the palace furniture, "where nothing was seen but armchairs brocaded in silk and gold, and one everywhere stepped on the finest carpets." The community offered six immense vases, and a donative of bullocks, fowls, and wax. "But all this is nothing to the excessive affection which the Lord Marquis bears to his most illustrious consort: he does not merely love her, he adores her. May God continue it, and maintain them in happiness."[57] This kind wish had scanty fulfilment, for the Princess died nine years later, her husband surviving to the patriarchal age of ninety-six.

In 1556, Guidobaldo finished the citadel and fortifications of Sinigaglia, which had occupied him during ten years, and which were considered an important bulwark against Turkish descents on the Adriatic coast. There also he instituted a college for the study of gunnery; and he commemorated the completion of these establishments by striking four medals, of which three are described by Riposati; none of them, however, merit special notice, the beauty of Italian dies being already on the wane. The court was now for the most part resident at Pesaro, a situation excelling in amenity and convenience the original capital of the duchy. Among its attractions may be numbered the palace-villa of Imperiale, which has been described; but it became necessary to provide a town residence, that in the citadel, which had sufficed for the Sforza, being far too restricted for the demands of growing luxury. Of the palace at Pesaro, Guidobaldo II. may be considered the entire author,[*58] and if it seem scarcely suited for the accommodation of so famed a court, we must recollect that the golden days of this principality were already passing away, that the military qualities of its sovereigns and people had become less gainful, and the devotion of its dukes to letters and arts was beginning to languish. Although extensive, the aspect of this residence is mean, its buildings rambling. It exhibits no appearance of a public edifice except the spacious loggia or arcade. Over this, its single external feature, is the great hall, measuring 134 by 54 feet, and of well-proportioned height. Here we find some interesting traces of the della Rovere, in those quaint and significant family devices which it was their pride unceasingly to repeat. The manifold compartments of its richly stuccoed ceiling contain their heraldic badge, the oak-tree; the ermine of Naples; the half-inclined palm-tree; the meta, or goal of merit, and similar fancies.[59] These recur among delicately sculptured arabesques on the internal lintels, and ornament the imposing chimney-pieces, varied by figures of Fame strewing oak-leaves and acorns. This palace was later the winter residence of the cardinal legates of Urbino and Pesaro, of whom portraits, from the Devolution of the duchy to the Holy See, in 1626, surround the great hall. In 1845, Cardinal della Genga was the forty-eighth of this long succession.

Paul IV. was seventy-nine years of age when he assumed the triple tiara. His life had been one long exercise of holy zeal and ascetic observance, and the Romans, again sunk in those habits of luxury and indulgence from which Bourbon's army had roused them, saw with little satisfaction the accession of one so intolerant. But they were ill-prepared for a turbulence unparalleled during many years. His policy leaned to the once favourite, but long dormant, idea of expelling the Spaniards from Lower Italy; while, to the astonishment of mankind, the almost abandoned pretensions of nepotism were revived with unflinching fierceness by this octogenarian founder of the strictly devotional order of Theatins. A trumpery outrage on the French flag by the Sforza of Santa-fiore,[*60] in which the Colonna were alleged to have participated or sympathised, supplied a pretext for putting the latter to the ban; and their vast possessions, which in the ecclesiastical states alone numbered above a hundred separate holdings, were conferred upon the Pope's nephew, Giovanni Caraffa, Count of Montorio. The Colonna flew to arms, and, being under the avowed protection of Spain, were supported by troops from Naples, against whom the Duke of Urbino was ordered to march; but fortunately the ashes of civil broils were nearly cold, and peace would have continued undisturbed, had not Paul, in the following year, issued his monitory against Philip II. Although the Spanish intervention in behalf of the Colonna formed an ostensible ground for this aggression, its true motives are traced by Panvinio to more remote and personal considerations, dating from the viceroyalty of Lautrec, by whom the Caraffa, always adherents of France, had been harshly treated. Reverting to the papal policy of half a century before, Paul sought to avenge this quarrel through French instrumentality, and although a pacification of unusual solemnity had been concluded in February of this year between Charles V. and Henry II., preparatory to the former retiring from the cares of sovereignty, he contrived, by successful intrigues, to bring the two great European powers once more into hostility, and to revive in the Bourbon King those ambitious projects which had formerly brought his predecessors across the Alps for the conquest of Naples.

Anticipating this threatened danger, the Duke of Alva marched an army of fourteen thousand men into the Comarca, which he overran in September, occupying Tivoli on the one hand, and Ostia on the other, whilst Marc-Antonio Colonna scoured the Campagna, to the gates of Rome. Guidobaldo, who appears to have been about this time superseded, and his truncheon of command transferred to the Pontiff's favourite nephew, contented himself with sending a contingent of two thousand troops, under Aurelio Fregoso, for his Holiness's support. The efforts made on all sides to conclude a harassing and useless war, were rendered unavailing by the Pope's obstinacy and ambition; the only terms he would agree to including an investiture of his nephew as sovereign of Siena, in compensation for the Colonna estates.

During the winter months, a horde of northern barbarians were once more mustered to invade unhappy Italy. Fourteen thousand Gascons, Grisons, and Germans, under command of the Duc de Guise, marched early in the spring upon Romagna, which, though a friendly country, they cruelly ravaged. Faenza having escaped their brutality by denying them entrance, its citizens testified their gratitude for the exemption, by instituting an annual triduan thanksgiving, and dotation of two of their daughters. The Duke of Urbino did his best to secure his people during the transit of this army, which crossed the Tronto in April. It would be tedious to follow the fortunes of a campaign in which he took no part, and which, whoever gained, was the scourge of Italy. On the 26th of August, the Duc de Guise placed his scaling ladders against the San Sebastiano gate, and Rome had nearly been carried by a coup-de-main. At length the representations of Venice and Florence, which had remained neutral, prevailed with his Holiness, and, on the 14th of September, peace was restored, leaving matters much on their former footing. Riposati assures us that during this war the French monarch would gladly have secured the services of Guidobaldo, now free from his engagements to the Pontiff, but that Duke Cosimo of Florence interested himself to procure for him an engagement from Spain. This was at length arranged, in the spring of 1558, previously to which Charles V. appears to have bestowed on him the Golden Fleece, the highest compliment at his disposal.[61]

The terms upon which the Duke took service under Philip II. are thus stated in a letter of Bernardo Tasso. The King guaranteed him protection for his territories against all hazards, and bound himself to supply and maintain for him a body-guard of at least two hundred infantry, besides a company of a hundred men-at-arms, and another of two hundred light horse. He further engaged to pay him monthly 1000 golden scudi for his appointments as captain-general, besides maintaining for him four colonels and twenty captains. In return, the Duke took an oath to serve his Majesty faithfully against all potentates, the pontiffs alone excepted. The political results of this arrangement were strongly and painfully felt by Bernardo, who regarded it as establishing the tranquillity of Naples, the security of Tuscany, and, in a word, the Spanish domination in Italy. Inclined to the French interests (for there was no longer an Italian party in existence), he would have gladly seen the sovereign of a highland population, whose warlike sinews were not yet quite relaxed, preserve his neutrality, or rather, like his father, attach himself to the republic of Venice, which still possessed much external power and internal independence. Indeed, he laments the short-sighted policy of the Signory, in omitting this opportunity of securing, as an available check upon Spanish influence, an able confederate, and corn-growing neighbour; a blunder which was the more unaccountable, as, in the opinion of Mocenigo, who was Venetian envoy at Urbino many years later, the prepossessions of Guidobaldo were even then in favour of a connection which had hereditary claims upon his preference. On the first days of May the convention was published at Pesaro, after solemn thanksgiving to the Almighty for a dispensation so acceptable to the Duke.[62] The importance to Spain of this condotta may be understood from a fact mentioned by Riposati, that Gubbio alone sent forth, between 1530 and 1570, three captains-general, two lieutenants-general, six colonels, and sixty-five captains of note. Mocenigo says, there were in 1570 twelve thousand soldiers in the duchy, ready at call.

Our notices of Guidobaldo become ever more barren. In 1565 the armament of Sultan Solyman against Malta spread consternation throughout Western Europe, and, by desire of Philip II., the Duke of Urbino sent four or five thousand troops to aid in the defence of the knights. Prince Francesco Maria asked leave to accompany the expedition, but his father, considering his time better bestowed in visiting courts, sent him in this year to Madrid, with commission to recover a long arrear of his own military allowances. In this he was successful, but the sum scarcely sufficed to clear the expenses of his journey. Particulars of this visit, and of his marriage in 1571, will be told from his own pen in [next chapter]. But there was no lukewarmness on his father's part on the question of the Cross against the Crescent. After the Prince returned from the naval action off Lepanto, which will also be narrated from his Autobiography, Guidobaldo prepared a Discourse on the propriety of a general war against the Turks, the means of conducting the proposed campaign with due regard to the security of Italy, the preparation of adequate munitions, and the best plan for carrying the seat of war into the enemy's country. It is unnecessary to dwell upon a matter now so completely gone by: the paper emanates from a mind capable of enlarged views, and fully conversant with the belligerent resources and general policy of his age, as well as experienced in military operations.[63]

The Relazioni of the Venetian envoys supply us with some notices of Urbino about this time, and prove that the Duke's expenses were very great, partly from frequent calls upon his hospitality by visitors of distinction, but still more from his maintaining separate and costly establishments for himself, the Duchess, the Prince, and the Princess.[64] Mocenigo estimates his income from imposts, monopolies, and allodial domains, at 100,000 scudi; adding that, "should he think proper to burden his people, this sum might unquestionably be greatly augmented, but, choosing to follow the custom of his predecessors, in making it his chief object to preserve the affection of his subjects, he is content to leave matters as they are, and live in straits for money."[65] He also tells us that, though poor in revenues, he was master of his people's affections, who on an exigency would place life and substance at his disposal. The accuracy of these impressions is in some degree impugned by what we are now about to relate.

The most remarkable incident in Guidobaldo's reign was an outbreak of the citizens of Urbino, dignified in its municipal history by the name of a rebellion, which acquires a factitious importance as the only symptom of discontent that troubled the peace of the duchy, from the death of Oddantonio in 1443, to the extinction of its independence in 1631. We shall condense its incidents from the contemporary narrative of Gian-Francesco Cartolari, who designated himself agent of the Duke, and who, notwithstanding his official position, writes with apparent frankness and impartiality.[66]

In August, 1572, the Duke intimated to the council of Urbino that he had received authority from Gregory XIII. to impose a tax of one quatrino per lb. on butchers' meat, and of two bolognini upon every staro of grain and soma of wine;[67] and in October he made proclamation throughout the duchy of these new imposts. It being rumoured that the envoys of Gubbio had obtained for that community a suspension of the obnoxious duties, discontent began to prevail, and on the 26th December one Zibetto, a cobbler, in an inflammatory harangue, at a public assembly dignified with the name of general council, declared that these were exactions under which the poor could not exist.[*68] On his proposal, forty delegates were chosen from the nobility, and sworn to represent the matter to the Duke in person. They repaired to Pesaro, and, on the 29th, had an audience to present the memorial agreed to by the council, which Guidobaldo received, and desired them to go home, promising that an answer would be transmitted when he had considered their statement. They, however, stayed a week, vainly looking for his reply, during which the council met daily at Urbino, and at length they were recalled by an express from the Gonfaloniere. Meanwhile a vice-duke had been sent thither, who, on the 1st of January, 1573, published a suspension of the new imposts throughout the whole state. This concession, however, did not satisfy the discontented, who, in another general council, accredited two envoys to Prince Francesco Maria, begging his intervention to procure an answer to their memorial. Having failed in this object, and finding that troops were being secretly organised to garrison their city, the people of Urbino rushed to arms, closed the gates, and, having mustered above a thousand men, began to strengthen the defences and lay in stores. The Vice-Duke being thereupon recalled, the general council assembled daily in such numbers, that adjournments to one of the largest churches were found necessary, and the inhabitants, setting aside private rivalries, co-operated with one mind for the public safety, mounting guard, and making every exertion to render their city tenable. The impossibility of doing so against the Duke's military levies being however quickly apparent even to the insurgents, an embassy of six was despatched to Rome to beseech the Pope's mediation. Nor did the reaction stop there; a general cry rose for the Prince, or his brother the Cardinal, the opportune arrival of either of whom would have ended the émeute. On the 29th, however, the Duchess came with a small suite, and was received with cries of "Long life to the Duke, but death to the gabelle!" The efforts of the magistracy and popular leaders to make their peace were unavailing, in consequence of their having sent representations to the Pontiff, and, on the 3rd of February, the Duchess departed without effecting any arrangement, to the infinite annoyance of all parties. The envoys could get no other reply from his Holiness but that they must go home and make submission, and they were followed by a brief from him, enjoining them to lay down arms and seek his Excellency's unconditional pardon. As soon as this had been publicly read by the Gonfaloniere, the people piled their arms in the piazza, and the peasantry dispersed to their country homes.

Notwithstanding this surrender, Guidobaldo advanced upon the city, quartering his troops in the surrounding villages, so as to blockade it, and all the public functionaries were superseded. Dreading a sack, the citizens rushed to the monasteries with their valuables, and, about the middle of February, sent fifty of the nobles to crave pardon of their sovereign. After waiting at Pesaro for three days, these were admitted to tender submission on their knees, and were then placed under arrest at their inn for twenty days, notwithstanding incessant petitions from their fellow citizens for their release. Six of them were then committed to the castle, and from time to time other leaders were brought from Urbino to share their imprisonment. So terrified were the insurgents by these measures, that those most compromised fled from the duchy, and but few remained in their houses; a proclamation was therefore issued that all exiles should return home within two months, under penalties of rebellion. The property of the prisoners and exiles was confiscated; the city was disarmed; public assemblies were prohibited; and the magistracy were discharged from their duties.[69] Such rigorous measures having inspired a general panic, the imposts were again proclaimed at Easter, to include retrospectively the previous year. These severities were perhaps scarcely beyond the exigencies of the case; at all events, they cannot be justly regarded as an extreme exercise of the despotic authority which the Duke undoubtedly possessed; but those which ensued must be viewed with abhorrence, alike from their own enormity, and from their prejudicial influence in confounding vengeance with justice.

A judge was brought from Ferrara to sit upon the prisoners, and on the 1st of July nine of them were beheaded in the castle at midnight; their bodies, after being flung out and exposed beyond the city, were huddled together into an unconsecrated pit, until some days later they were taken up by order of the Bishop of Pesaro, and received Christian burial. Nor was the indignation of their sovereign appeased by these revolting cruelties: others implicated were sent to the galleys or died of hard usage. A commission sat at Urbino for two months to realise the estates of those attainted, whose widows and children were deprived of their dowries, and in some instances their very houses were razed to the ground. The results were fatal to the whole community, for magisterial business was suspended, the schools were left without teachers, the town without medical practitioners, trade of every sort at a stand. At length, in December, permission was obtained to hold a general council, at which it was determined once more to send ambassadors to intercede for mercy. For this purpose about eighty of the principal nobility were selected to accompany the Gonfaloniere and priors to Pesaro, their cavalcade amounting to above a hundred persons on horseback. On the 27th of December, they were admitted to an audience in presence of the whole court, and the Gonfaloniere, after a very judicious speech, presented to his Excellency a petition couched in the following terms:—

"Most illustrious and most excellent Lord Duke, our especial lord and master! Inspired by a most ardent desire for your illustrious Excellency's favour and good will, and having ever felt the utmost grief and regret for the recent events, the city of Urbino, with entire devotion and alacrity, has resolved to send to your illustrious Excellency its magistrates, and the present numerous embassy, in order that with every possible humility, they in our name, and we likewise for ourselves, may supplicate you, with all reverence and submission, to accord us grace and pardon, entirely forgetting the provocations received, and, as our clement father and master, full of charity towards us, to deign willingly to comfort us, and receive us again, and restore us to your love and benign grace; assuring your most illustrious Excellency, that this your city will never, in fidelity, love, and obedience towards your most illustrious person and house, yield to any other in the world, and that it is, and ever will be, most prompt at all times and occasions to expose our lives, and those of our children, and our whole goods and possessions, in your service and honour; so that, in the event of our receiving, as we desire and hope, forgiveness from your infinite bounty and magnanimity, we, the humblest and most faithful of your servants, thanking God with sincerely joyful hearts, may return, singing in chorus—'Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who hath visited and redeemed his people,' and may ever keep in remembrance this trusted day of grace, and render it a gladsome festival in all time to come."

To this petition the Duke returned the following gracious answer:—"I hear with much good will and satisfaction the duty which you pay, the free pardon which you ask, and the penitence which you exhibit, all which induce me to confirm to you, as I now do most willingly, the forgiveness I already have accorded: and the promise which you make, of being ever faithful and loyal to me, proves you ready to second your words with good purposes, as I readily believe you will do. I also promise you from henceforward entirely to forget the past, and to receive you into my pristine affection; and had it pleased God that the warnings and persuasions which you received from my lips had been taken by you at first, you would have been spared many evils, annoyances, and losses, and I much displeasure. Nevertheless, take courage, and, as I have already said, so long as you do your duty, you will find me as loving in time to come as I have ever been, all which you will report to your city."[70]

This reply gave great satisfaction to the deputation, and after being suitably acknowledged by their head, all of them knelt to their Sovereign, the Duchess, and the Prince, kissing the hems of their garments in humble attitude. Next day they returned home, and summoned a general council, to which there was read a letter from Guidobaldo, reinstating the city in its former privileges, and removing the obnoxious imposts. Four deputies having been commissioned to thank his Highness for these demonstrations of returning favour, they were honourably received and entertained at Pesaro. The council next voted a peace-offering of 50,000 scudi towards paying the Duke's debts, which had been the primary root of the evil; but, in consideration of their recent sufferings, he accepted of but 20,000, payable in seven years. Although there remained some symptoms of smouldering sedition, the Duke on the 14th of June suddenly started for Urbino, and was welcomed by a deputation, and such other marks of respect as the short notice would permit. During a residence of twelve days, he renounced 8000 scudi of the donative, and conceded several privileges to the community, whom he did not again visit during the brief residue of his life.

The Urbino rebellion holds a place in the history of that state which neither its incidents nor its issue deserve. It originated in a sore of old standing, the Duke having for years comparatively deserted the ancient capital of his duchy, and transferred his residence to Pesaro. Influenced by this grudge, its citizens, instead of, like the other communities, resting satisfied with his remission of dues in January, 1573, kept up an agitation, and finally piqued their sovereign by carrying their grievances to the papal throne. On the whole, these transactions were in all respects most unfortunate, and it was long ere the duchy recovered from the heart-burnings they left behind. The Duke then forfeited the popularity of a lifetime, and his fame continues blackened by the scurrilous traditionary nickname of Guidobaldaccio, a usual diminutive expressing contemptuous disparagement. Grossi says that, when too late, he regretted the harshness of his after measures; and some doubt as to his good faith in regard to an amnesty is hinted in the following letter from his cousin-german Ludovico Gonzaga, Duke of Nevers and Rethel, which I found among the Oliveriana MSS. at Pesaro.

"Most illustrious and most excellent Lord,