CHAPTER XXV

[61]Luzio-Renier,op. cit., p. 627.

[62]Luzio-Renier,op. cit., p. 630.

The war of Pisa—Venice defends the liberties of Pisa against Florence—Lodovico invites Maximilian to enter Italy and succour the Pisans—The Duke and Duchess of Milan go to meet the emperor at Mals—Maximilian crosses the Alps and comes to Vigevano—His interview with the Venetian envoys—His expedition to Pisa.

"After Fornovo," wrote the Venetian Malipiero, "Lodovico Duke of Milan governed all things in Italy." The departure of the French had left him practically the arbiter between the other Powers, and afforded him fresh opportunities of satisfying his ambitious schemes. He had long cherished hopes of recovering the city of Pisa, upon which the Dukes of Milan had ancient claims, and in September, 1495, while Orleans still held Novara, he sent Fracassa, at the head of a band of Genoese archers, to help the Pisans defend their newly recovered liberties against the Florentines. Three months later Fracassa was recalled, in tardy compliance with the condition of the Treaty of Vercelli; but early in the following year, the Pisans, finding themselves deserted by the French, turned once more to Lodovico and implored his help. At the same time they sought assistance from the Signory of Venice, who, in March, 1496, publicly took the city of Pisa under the protection of St. Mark, and helped their new allies with liberal supplies of men and money. The Duke of Milan sent a small brigade to join these forces, and strongly encouraged the Venetians to bear the burden of a war from which in the end he hoped to reap solid advantage. But his secret jealousy of Venice, as well as rumours that Charles VIII. was meditating a second French expedition to relieve the distressed garrison of Naples, inducedhim to seek the help of a new ally In the person of the Emperor Maximilian.

Early in the spring he sent the Marchesino Stanga across the Alps to invite Maximilian to come to the help of Pisa, which as an imperial city had already appealed to him for protection, assuring him that his presence in Italy would maintain the balance of power between Venice and Florence, and curb the French king's ambition. The prospect of descending upon Italy and assuming the imperial crown flattered Maximilian's vanity, but, as usual, his movements were hampered by lack of money. At length he agreed to meet the Duke of Milan on the frontier of Tyrol and the Valtellina, and discuss their future plan of operations together.

On the 5th of July the emperor left Innsbrück for Nauders, and on the same day the duke and duchess, accompanied by Galeazzo di Sanseverino and the Count of Melzi, set out on their journey up the lake of Como to Bormio, in the Valtellina, On the 17th they reached the Abbey of Mals, "an ancient monastery," says Cagnola, "at the foot of those terrible mountains on the way to Germany;" and two days afterwards, received a message from Maximilian, informing the duke and duchess that he was about to pay them a visit, but begging them not to leave their lodgings, as he wished the meeting to be informal and without ceremony. Early on the morning of the 20th, the gay music of hunting-horns woke the mountain echoes, and a hunting-party suddenly appeared at the gates of the old Benedictine abbey. First came a hundred soldiers on foot, bearing long lances, then fifty German lords in hunting-garb, with falcons on their wrists. These were followed by his Imperial Majesty, a princely figure in his simple grey cloth tunic and black velvet cap, with a lion's skin hanging over his thighs, and the badge of the Golden Fleece on his breast. A troop of servants and pages, in the imperial liveries of red, white, and yellow, brought up the rear of the procession, that wound along the steep mountain-side and halted before the convent, where the Duke of Milan had his lodgings.

The Venetian ambassador, Francesco Foscari, hearing of Maximilian's proposed visit, had, on Lodovico's invitation, followed him across the Alps, accompanied by the Cardinal of SantaCroce, the papal nuncio. Both these envoys waited on the emperor at Mals, and that evening Foscari's secretary, Conrade Vimerca, wrote the following account of the meeting between Maximilian and the duke and duchess in his despatches to Venice:—

"His Majesty alighted with an eagerness which seemed to me only too great, and went upstairs, where he found the duke alone with the duchess, and spent half an hour in close and affectionate intercourse with them both. Afterwards they all three attended mass in the neighbouring church, and his Majesty appeared, leading the duchess with his right hand and the duke with his left, with such demonstrations of love and familiarity as can hardly be described. All three then rode on horseback to the emperor's lodgings at Colorno (Glurns), some eight miles distant, where his Majesty entertained the duke and duchess and all their suite at dinner under a pavilion, which had been erected under the trees. His Majesty insisted on both the duke and duchess washing their hands with him in the same bowl, and, sitting down between them at table, himself helped first one, then the other, from the endless variety of dishes spread out before them. All this he did with an ease and kindness beyond anything that I have ever seen in royal personages. Each time the duke spoke he took off his cap, and his Majesty did the same. After dinner they remained for some while in pleasant conversation, and then rode all three together to another place called Mals, one mile further off, his Majesty bearing all the expenses of the entertainment. To-morrow night they will remain together here, and there will be some time for discussion. I am quite sure," adds the Venetian secretary, "after this that we shall see his Majesty in Italy next August, and this you may hold to be absolutely certain. As for the King of France, they do not even mention his name or think of him any more than if he did not exist."

Although the Signoria of Venice had joined the Duke of Milan in inviting Maximilian to come to Italy, and had promised him their assistance, they were secretly not a little alarmed at the prospect of another foreign invasion, fearing, as one of their chroniclers observes, that the Germans might prove to be even greater barbarians than the French. In the interview which Foscari had with the emperor at Mals, he endeavoured politelyto dissuade him from entering Italy with a German army; but, as his secretary remarked, it was too late, for the Duke of Milan willed that he should come. Nor were the jealous Venetians altogether pleased to see the marks of friendship and confidence with which the German emperor honoured Lodovico and his wife. The familiarity with which Maximilian treated both the duke and duchess, and the evident pleasure which he took in their company, seemed little short of marvellous in the eyes of both Foscari and his secretary.

The singular charm and intelligence of Beatrice made a deep impression upon Maximilian, who could not but contrast her brightness and cleverness with the dulness and ignorance of his own Milanese wife. And the duke's polished manners and cultured tastes could not fail to exert a powerful fascination upon a monarch whose genuine love of art and romance made him in his way as remarkable a type of the Renaissance as the Moro himself. Even apart from political considerations, this meeting between the two princes, that summer-time in the mountains of Tyrol, was an event of deep interest, and we can only regret that no record of Beatrice's impressions on this occasion has been left us.

A conference between the emperor, the Duke of Milan, and the ambassadors was held on the evening of that eventful day, and the details of the convention between the allied powers was finally agreed upon. A new league, which Henry the Seventh of England was afterwards invited to join, was formed between the Emperor Maximilian, the Duke of Milan, the Pope, the King of Spain, and the Venetian Republic; and Venice and Milan promised Maximilian a subsidy of 16,000 ducats if he would cross the Alps with an army, and compel the Florentines to give up Pisa and Leghorn.

On the following day, the Venetian ambassador and the papal legate took their leave, and Maximilian accompanied the duke and duchess over the Alps to Bormio, where he joined in a chamois-hunt, and then rode back with his retinue across the mountains to meet the empress at Tirano. Lodovico and Beatrice travelled back to Milan, where they kept the feast of the "glorious martyr St, Lawrence," on the 10th of August, with unwontedsplendour, and then retired to Vigevano to prepare for the emperor's speedy return.

Before the end of the month, Maximilian had once more crossed that "crudelissima montagna" of Braulio (Piz Umbrail), and was at Bellagio on the Lake of Como, where Fracassa received him, and with five other Milanese knights held abaldacchinoover his head as he rode up to the Marchesino Stanga's Castle on the hills.

"But he only brought six secretaries and two hundred horsemen with him, and as before was simply clad in a suit of grey cloth," remarks a Venetian writer: "the pettiest German baron would have come with more pomp!" A few days afterwards, the emperor went on to the ducal villa at Meda, near Como, where Lodovico met him with the Cardinal di Santa Croce and Foscari, and conducted him, on the 2nd of September, to see Duchess Beatrice at Vigevano. Here he remained for the next three weeks, enjoying the beauties of the Moro's favourite summer palace, and admiring the perfection of Lodovico's latest improvements—the clock recently constructed by Bramante, the marble capitals of the great hall, and the model farm and stables of the Sforzesca. Maximilian had originally intended to visit Milan, and the erection of a triumphal arch in the Roman style had been ordered by the duke, together with other decorations on a vast scale; but at the last moment this idea was abandoned. The Venetian, Marino Sanuto, unkindly suggests that the Moro would not allow the emperor to come to Milan, lest he should see Duchess Isabella's son, who was the rightful heir to the crown. In all probability the true reason lay in Maximilian's dislike of state-pageants, and his preference for the freedom and country pleasures of Vigevano. As he told the Venetian ambassador, he preferred to travel about in different places and enjoy himself in his own way. And His Majesty added, with a frankness by no means agreeable to Foscari and his government, that he had no need of his company, and he preferred to be alone, since Duke Lodovico, with whom he was very intimate, could tell him all that he wished to know. With which distinctly unpalatable piece of information the ambassador had to be content. Maximilian, he was compelled to acknowledge, had come to Italy as the sworn friend and ally of the Duke of Milan, andthe Republic must stoop to take the second place in the councils of the League.

If Beatrice's charms had captivated the wise emperor at their first meeting in the mountains of the Valtellina, he found her a thousand times more fascinating at her beautiful country home, with her children in her arms. He took great interest in both her little boys, and begged that the elder of the two, Ercole, should bear the name of Maximilian, by which he became known in future days. In memory of this visit the emperor's portrait was introduced in the beautiful miniatures which illustrate Maximilian Sforza's Book of Prayers, or Libro di Gesù, still preserved in the Trivulzian Library. Here the young count is represented on horseback, receiving his illustrious cousin, while the words of the Latin oration, which he is in the act of reciting, are illuminated on the front page.

The Venetian Signory had decided to send two special ambassadors to congratulate the emperor on his arrival in Italy, and on the 14th these envoys, Antonio Grimani and Marco Morosini, reached Milan, where they were received by Galeazzo Sforza, Count of Melzi, and lodged in the Palazzo del Verme, then inhabited by Madonna Cecilia Gallerani and her husband Count Lodovico Bergamini, and lately decorated with frescoes and marbles at the duke's expense. Early the next day they travelled by boat to Abbiategrasso, past the fair villas and smiling gardens that charmed the eyes of Jean d'Auton when he travelled along the banks of the Ticino. Here Foscari, who was already in attendance on the emperor, came to meet them, and they rode into Vigevano, where they were received by the Count of Caiazzo and Galeotto della Mirandola, and listened in torrents of rain to a Latin oration that was delivered in Maximilian's name. It was already dark when the ambassadors reached the Castello, but the duke himself rode out to welcome them, and conducted them to their lodgings in the palace of his son-in-law, Galeazzo di Sanseverino. Here the duke's own daughter, Madonna Bianca, the youthful bride whom Messer Galeaz had brought home a few weeks before, entertained her father's guests, and bade them welcome in the name of her gallant husband, who was laid up with an attack of fever, and wasunable to leave his room or attend to business. The next day the ambassadors were granted an audience, at which Marino Sanuto, as a member of Foscari's suite, was himself present. His Majesty, whom the Venetian described as a magnificent-looking man of thirty-seven, with long hair already turning white, and perfect manners, received them at the top of the grand staircase, on the first floor of the Castello. As usual, he was clad in black and wore a long velvet mantle, and a black woollen cap trimmed with cords in the French style, having taken a vow to wear no colours until he had defeated the Turks, while his sole ornament was a gold chain, with the badge of the Golden Fleece, which hung round his neck. He was seated on a daïs, draped with cloth of gold, with the Duke of Milan on his right hand, and the Cardinal di Santa Croce on his left. The ambassadors of Naples and Spain were also present, as well as the Count of Caiazzo, the Marchesino Stanga, Don Angelo de' Talenti, the Bishops of Como and Piacenza, the secretary de' Negri, and other well-known Milanese courtiers. Marco Morosini then pronounced an elegant harangue, which was praised by all present, and graciously accepted by the emperor, who conversed affably with the envoys on general subjects. Afterwards Marino Sanuto was presented to the Duchess Beatrice, who, he remarks, "never leaves her lord's side, although she is once more with child,"—and her two fine little boys, "Ercole, whose name has been changed by His Majesty's desire to Maximilian, and who is called Count of Pavia, and a second named Sforza." A succession offêtesand hunting-parties was given by the duke for the entertainment of his imperial guest during the next week, and ending with a "Caccia bellissima" to which the cardinal-legate, all the princes, ambassadors, and courtiers were invited. Two hundred riders took part in the hunt that day, and "I myself," adds the grave historian, "was there and saw a hare caught by a leopard."

On the 23rd of September the emperor took leave of the Duchess Beatrice, who presented him, as a parting gift, with a superb litter, made of woven gold, richly adorned with fine needlework—"the most beautiful thing which I have ever seen," writes Sanuto, "and valued at a thousand ducats." The dukeaccompanied his guest as far as Tortona, where he left Maximilian to go on to Genoa, and thence by sea to Pisa.

"There are, people say, three reasons," remarked Marino Sanuto, "why His Imperial Majesty is such fast friends with the Duke of Milan. In the first place, he sees that Lodovico has great power and authority throughout Italy. In the second, he hopes to get some money out of him. And in the third place, he looks on him as a useful ally against the King of France."

Happily for both the emperor and the Duke of Milan's peace of mind, the French king's military ardour had soon died away, and although Trivulzio was sent to Asti, and Orleans would gladly have followed him, Charles the Eighth spent his time in jousts and hunting-parties, and forgot his unhappy subjects in Southern Italy. Ferrante, assisted by a Venetian force under Francesco Gonzaga, recovered one fortress after another. On the 29th of July, Montpensier, after holding the fortified city of Atella during many months, was forced to capitulate with his five thousand men, and himself died of fever a few weeks later at Pozzuoli. Most of his troops shared the same fate, and few of that gallant army lived to return to France. Suddenly, in the midst of his victorious career, the young king Ferrante, who had a few months before obtained a papal dispensation to marry his father's youthful half-sister, Princess Joan, died of fever, brought on by the fatigues and hardships to which he had exposed himself in the previous campaign. His death was deeply lamented alike by his subjects and his relatives at Milan and Mantua, who retained a sincere affection for this brave and popular prince. Fortunately, his uncle and successor Frederic, the fifth king who had reigned over Naples during the last three years, proved a wise and capable monarch. By degrees he succeeded in capturing the few remaining castles still held by the French, and once more restored peace to his distracted kingdom. Such was the state of affairs that autumn, when the German emperor landed at Pisa on the 21st of October. The citizens received him with acclamations, and, pulling down the French king's statue, as they had broken the lion of Florence in pieces two years before, placed the imperial eagle on the top of the column in the publicsquare. But they were once more doomed to disappointment. Maximilian, finding himself, as usual, ill supplied with both men and money, and being inadequately supported by his allies of Venice and Milan, was unable to prosecute the war against Florence with any vigour. He attempted to besiege Leghorn; but his fleet was scattered and many of his ships were wrecked by a violent storm, after which he gave up the undertaking, saying that he could not fight against both God and man. One day towards the end of November, he suddenly took his departure, and, leaving Pisa, returned by Sarzana to Pavia. The Venetians saw the failure of this expedition and the fruitless result of their large expenditure of men and money, with great dissatisfaction, and attributed most of the blame to Duke Lodovico.

"Things go badly for the Signory at Pisa," wrote Malipiero, who was himself on board the Venetian fleet that sailed with Maximilian against Leghorn, "and the cause of this is Lodovico Duke of Milan.... His pride and arrogance are beyond description. He boasts that Pope Alexander is his chaplain, the Emperor Maximilian his condottiere, the Signory of Venice his chamberlain, since they spend their money largely to attain his ends, and the King of France his courier, who comes and goes at his pleasure. Truly a fearful state of things!"

And Marino Sanuto remarked, "The Duke of Milan is one of the wisest men in the world, but his success has rendered him very ungrateful to Venice, whose secret enemy he will always remain. He made a great mistake in allowing the Duke of Orleans to escape from Novara, and some day he will be punished for his bad faith. For he never keeps his promises, and when he says one thing, always does another. All men fear him, because fortune is propitious to him in everything. But none the less, I believe that he will not continue long in prosperity, for God is just, and will punish him because he is a traitor and never keeps faith with any one."

The Florentine Guicciardini moralized in much the same strain, saying that Lodovico publicly vaunted himself to be the son of Fortune, "little remembering the inconstancy of human fame," and flattered himself that he would always be able to govern the affairs of Italy, "with his industrie to turn and windethe minds of every one. This fond persuasion he could not dissemble, neither in himself, nor in his peoples, in so much that Milan day and night was replenished with voices vaine and glorious, celebrating with verses Latine and vulgar and with publicke orations full of flatterie, the wonderfull wisedom of Lodowike Sforce, on the which they made to depend the peace and warre of Italy, exalting his name even to the third heaven."

In those days the bard of Pistoja proclaimed that there was one God in heaven and one Moro upon earth, and sang the praises of this great and divine Duca, who alone could open and close the doors of the Temple of Janus and make peace or war in Italy, while Gaspare Visconti extolled the talents and virtues of Duchess Beatrice as surpassing those of all the most illustrious women of antiquity. Then Leonardo designed that famous series of allegories in his sketch-book, in which Duke Lodovico is represented alternately as Fortune, driving the squalid figure of Poverty away with a golden wand, and throwing his ducal mantle over a helpless youth who flies before the ugly hag; or as supreme Wisdom, wearing the spectacles which can pierce through all disguises, and pronouncing sentence between Envy on the one hand and Justice on the other. Then Bramante painted those frescoes on the walls of the Castello of Milan, in which the Moro was seen crowned and seated on his throne, under a stately portico, administering justice, with four councillors and two pages at his side, while the criminal trembled before him, and officers of state held the scales and prepared to carry out the sentence. And then, too, somewhere else in the palace, an unknown Lombard master painted that fresco of Italy as a fair queen, with the names of the chief cities embroidered on her robes, and the Moro standing at her side, brushing the dust off her skirts with thescopettaor little broom, that favourite emblem which appears in so many illuminated books of the day. On the wall below the painting, the following motto was inscribed:—

"Per Italia nettar d'ogni bruttura."

"Take care, my lord duke," the Florentine ambassador is reported to have said, when Lodovico graciously explainedthe meaning of the allegory—"take care the negro who is so busy brushing Italy's skirts does not cover himself with dust in his turn!" The courteous duke only smiled at the jest, and shrugged his shoulders; but others overheard the remark and repeated it, much to the satisfaction of his foes in Florence and Venice.

The fame of the great and powerful Duke of Milan had reached the distant cliffs of Albion and the palace of Westminster, and that November Lodovico received a letter from Henry VII. of England, rejoicing with his new ally on the conclusion of the League against France, and the visit of the emperor to Italy. The king further informed him that "the treaty had been solemnly proclaimed by the Cardinal-Archbishop of Conturberi, on the Feast of All Saints, in the cathedral church of the Blessed Apostle St. Paul, in our city of London." And our friend, Marino Sanuto, proceeds to improve the occasion by informing us that "this King Enrico has for wife Madonna Ysabeta, daughter of the late King Edward, because he defended the cause of Richard, brother of the said Edward. And he has two sons, Artur, prince of Squales, which is a neighbouring island, and the Duke of Yorche."

Isabella d'Este joins her husband in Naples—Works of Bramante and Leonardo in the Castello of Milan—The Cenacolo—Lodovico sends for Perugino—His passion for Lucrezia Crivelli—Grief of Beatrice—Death of Bianca Sforza—The Emperor Maximilian at Pavia—The Duke and Duchess return to Milan—Last days and sudden death of Beatrice d'Este.

The records we have of Beatrice's private life during this busy year are very meagre and disappointing. Scarcely one of her letters, belonging to this period, has been preserved, while those which her sister Isabella addressed to Milan are almost as rare. Themarchesa'stime and thoughts had been much engaged in public affairs during the absence of her husband with the Venetian forces at Naples, and she had little leisure for correspondence. On the 13th of July she gave birth to a second child, which, to her great disappointment, proved to be another girl, who received the name of Margherita, but only lived a few weeks. Of this event the duchess was duly informed, and, in sending her congratulations, was able to tell her sister that she was hoping to become the mother of a third child early in the following year. In September the marquis fell dangerously ill of fever, and his wife hurried to join him in Calabria, and, as soon as he was able to move, brought him back by slow stages to Mantua. During that summer, the only letter of interest which Isabella wrote to the Milanese court was a note to her friend, the jester Barone, begging him to find out for her how Messer Galeazzo and others who like him are the glass of fashion, manage to dye their hair black on certain occasions, and afterwards resume the natural colour of their locks, adding that she remembers distinctly tohave seen Count Francesco Sforza with black locks one day, and the next with brown.

On the 9th of November, Lodovico wrote an imperative note from Vigevano to the Castellan of the Rocchetta, Bernardino del Corte, desiring him to see that the walls of the new rooms are dry and ready for habitation by the end of the month, since the duchess must have the use of the apartments adjoining the ball-room during her approaching confinement, and telling him to ask Bergonzio, the treasurer, for money, if more should be required. Bernardino replied that the rooms were finished, and that good fires had been lighted to dry the walls, and that the whole suite would be furnished by the following week and ready to receive the duchess. He also informed the duke that the new rooms on the side of the garden would be completed by Christmas, and told him that Bramante, after finishing the arcades of the new gallery between the ball-room and Rocchetta, had begun the design of the new tower. Both Leonardo and Bramante were employed on extensive works in the Castello during the duke's absence that summer, although the Florentine master, we know, was chiefly engaged in finishing his great fresco in the refectory of the Dominican convent outside the Porta Vercellina. Often during the summer heats, Matteo Bandello, then a young novice of the Order, saw the Florentine master at noonday, "when the sun was in the sign of the Lion," leave the Corte Vecchia, where he was finishing his great horse, and, hurrying through the streets to the Grazie, mount the scaffold, brush in hand, and put a few touches to some of the figures in the Cenacolo, after which he would hurry away as quickly as he came. Often too the young friar watched him at his work; "for this excellent painter," Matteo tells us, "always liked to hear other people give their opinions freely on his pictures." Many a time the young Dominican saw Messer Leonardo ascend the scaffold in the early morning, and remain there from sunrise till the hour of twilight, forgetting to eat and drink, and painting all the while without a moment's pause. Sometimes again he would not paint a single stroke for several days, but just stand before the picture during one or two hours, contemplating his work, and considering and examining the different figures. Andthe friars were very much annoyed because of the master's delays, and complained to the duke, who paid him so large a sum for the work, that he had not yet begun the head of the traitor Judas. When the duke asked Leonardo why he left this head undone, he replied that during the last year he had been vainly seeking in all the worst streets of Milan to find a type of criminal who would suit the character of Judas, but that if desired he would introduce the prior's own likeness, which he thought would answer the purpose excellently! This answer is said to have amused the duke highly, and Lodovico and his painter had a good laugh together at the expense of the prior.

But since Leonardo was otherwise engaged, and another painter who had been employed in the Castello suddenly disappeared, owing, we are told, to some scandal in which he was concerned, the duke determined to send to Florence for another artist to complete the decorations of his new rooms. There was evidently no Lombard master whom he considered equal to the task, and since Lorenzo de' Medici had sent him Leonardo, there might be some other artists of rare excellence among his fellow-citizens. So Lodovico wrote to his envoy at Florence, and desired him to let him have a full description of the best painters then living there. In reply, he received the following list, which is still preserved in the archives of Milan, and which is of great interest, both as a monument of the Moro's untiring perseverance in seeking out the best masters, and as a record of the different degrees of estimation in which living artists were held by their contemporaries:—

"Sandro de Botticelli—a most excellent master, both in panel and wall-painting. His figures have a manly air, and are admirable in conception and proportion.

"Filippino di Frati Filippo—an excellent disciple of the above-named, and a son of the rarest master of our times. His heads have a gentler and more suave air; but, we are inclined to think, less art.

"Il Perugino—a rare and singular artist, most excellent in wall-painting. His faces have an air of the most angelic sweetness.

"Domenico de Grillandaio—a good master in panels and abetter one in wall-painting. His figures are good, and he is an industrious and active master, who produces much work.

"All of these masters have given proof of their excellence in the Chapel of Pope Sixtus, excepting Filippino, and also in the Spedaletto of the Magnifico Laurentio, and their merit is almost equal."[63]

This intimation seems to have decided Lodovico to apply to Perugino, whom Leonardo had known as his fellow-pupil in Verrocchio's atelier at Florence, and who was supposed to be in Venice at the time. So his secretary wrote to desire Guido Arcimboldo, the Archbishop of Milan, who was then in Venice, to inquire for the Umbrian master, and see if he could be induced to visit Milan. The archbishop, writing on the 14th of June, replied that Maestro Pietro of Perugia had left Venice six months ago and was back at Florence. Lodovico, however, did not lose sight of the master, and in the following October, by his desire, the monks of the Certosa of Pavia engaged this popular artist to paint an altar-piece for one of their chapels. In the following year the duke returned to the charge, and hearing that Perugino had returned to his native city, wrote two pressing letters to one of the Baglioni, who was the chief magistrate of Perugia, begging him, as a personal favour, to induce Messer Pietro to come to Milan, and offering to pay the artist whatever price he may ask, and to retain him permanently in his service or keep him only for a fixed time, as he may think best. Perugino, however, was then engaged in decorating the Sala del Cambio in his native town, and had already more commissions than he could execute. He declined the Duke of Milan's repeated invitations, and the Moro was obliged to fall back upon Bramante and Leonardo to finish the works in the Castello.

But although the duke's passion for building new churches and palaces or beautifying those which he had already built, was as ardent as ever, it became more and more difficult to find the money to meet the vast expenditure which his splendid schemes involved. Thefêtesin honour of Maximilian and the subsidies which had been granted for his expedition had already entailed heavy expenses, and on every side the same complaint was heard. There was no money to pay the salaries of the numerousprofessors at Pavia and Milan, whose chairs had been founded by Lodovico himself; none to pay the bills for building and furnishing the new rooms in the Castello, or to cast Leonardo's great horse in bronze. Everywhere people were groaning at the heavy burdens imposed upon them, and at Lodi, Cremona, and other places there had been not only murmuring against the duke, but actual rioting and tumults, while in some parts of the duchy the inhabitants were leaving their homes to escape these harsh exactions. Lodovico's most faithful servants began to look grave, and the duke himself could not but be aware of his growing unpopularity among his subjects.

Whether these rumours reached the ears of Beatrice and disturbed her happiness, we cannot tell; but we know that her life was saddened and the gladness of her heart clouded by a new sorrow that autumn. The duke, who for many years past had proved himself a devoted and affectionate husband, and realized better than any one what an admirable companion and partner he had in his young wife, suddenly found a new object for his affections in Lucrezia Crivelli, a beautiful and accomplished maiden of a noble Milanese family, who was one of the duchess's ladies-in-waiting. Soon Lodovico's passion for this new mistress became publicly known, Leonardo was employed to paint her picture; and, under the date of November, 1496, the annalist of Ferrara writes, "The latest news from Milan is that the duke spends his whole time and finds all his pleasure in the company of a girl who is one of his wife's maidens. And his conduct is ill regarded here." The chronicler Muralti, in his brief and touching account of the young duchess, after recalling Beatrice's charms and joyous nature, tells us that, although Lodovico loved his wife intensely, he took Lucrezia Crivelli for his mistress, a thing which caused Beatrice the most bitter anguish of mind, but could not alter her love for him. And remorse for the pain which he had caused Beatrice gave the sharpest sting to Lodovico's own despair, on that sad day when he wept for his young wife's early death.

That autumn a fresh and unexpected blow fell upon the ducal family, in the death of Lodovico's beloved daughter Bianca, the young wife of Galeazzo di Sanseverino, who died verysuddenly at Vigevano, on the 22nd of November. Both the duke and duchess had been fondly attached to this fair young girl who only four or five months before had become the wife of Galeazzo, and was one of Beatrice's favourite companions. Her sudden and premature death threw a gloom over the whole court, and in elegant verse Niccolo da Correggio deplored the loss of the gentle maiden who had gone in the flower of her youth to join the blessed spirits, and grieved for the gallant husband whom a cruel fate had so early robbed of his bride. There can be little doubt that we have a portrait of this lamented princess in the beautiful picture of the Ambrosiana, which, long supposed to be the work of Leonardo, is now recognized by the best critics as that of Ambrogio de Predis. At one time this portrait was said to represent Beatrice herself, but neither the long slender throat nor the delicate features bear the least resemblance to those of the duchess, while the style of head-dress is equally unlike that which Beatrice wears in authentic representations. Again, some critics have supposed the Ambrosian picture to represent Kaiser Maximilian's wife, Bianca Maria Sforza; but the discovery of Ambrogio de Predis's actual portrait of the empress, and of his sketch of her head in the Venetian Academy, have shown this theory to be impossible. The Venetian Marc Antonio Michieli, who saw this picture in Taddeo Contarini's house at Venice in 1525, describes it as "a profile portrait of the head and bust of Madonna, daughter of Signor Lodovico of Milan," after which he adds, "married to the Emperor Maximilian ... by the hand of ...Milanese." The connoisseur had evidently confused the two Bianca Sforzas, but now that this mistake has been explained by a comparison of the Ambrosian portrait with genuine pictures and medals of the empress, there is no difficulty in accepting the remainder of his statement. For we have here, there can be little doubt, the portrait of Lodovico's daughter, by the hand of a Milanese painter, in all probability, as Morelli divined, the court-painter of the ducal house, Ambrogio de Predis. And the German critic, Dr. Müller-Walde, is probably right in his conjecture that the companion picture in the Ambrosiana is the portrait of Bianca's husband, Galeazzo di Sanseverino. This picture has been called by many names, and ascribed to manydifferent hands. It has been described in turn as a portrait of Maximilian, of the short-lived Duke Giangaleazzo, and of Lodovico Moro himself. But Ambrogio's portrait certainly represents none of the three, and it is far more likely that we have here a likeness of the duke's son-in-law, painted about the time of his marriage to Bianca Sforza. This handsome man of thirty, in the fur-trimmed vest and red cap, with the dark eyes, long locks, and refined thoughtful face, touched with an air of melancholy, may well be the brilliant cavalier who played so great a part at the Moro's court, the patron of Leonardo and Luca Pacioli, and the loyal servant of Duchess Beatrice.

Both the duke and his wife were overwhelmed with grief at Madonna Bianca's death. Lodovico himself wrote to Isabella d'Este that the wound had pierced his inmost heart, and the duchess and Messer Galeaz both expressed their grief in touching words. On the 23rd of November, Beatrice wrote these few sad lines to her sister—

"Although you will have already heard from my husband the duke of the premature death of Madonna Bianca, his daughter and the wife of Messer Galeaz, none the less I must write these few lines with my own hand, to tell you how great is the trouble and distress which her death has caused me. The loss indeed is greater than I can express, because of our close relationship and of the place which she held in my heart. May God have her soul in His keeping!"[64]

Galeazzo Di SanseverinoGaleazzo Di Sanseverino.From a painting by Ambrogio de Predis.(Ambrosiana)D. Anderson.ToList

Galeazzo Di Sanseverino.From a painting by Ambrogio de Predis.(Ambrosiana)D. Anderson.ToList

All thefêteswhich had been prepared in honour of the emperor's return to Lombardy were stopped, and the duke and duchess, with their little son, attended by a small suite of courtiers and ladies, in deep mourning, travelled by water to Pavia, to receive their illustrious kinsman when he arrived from Sarzana on the 2nd of December. On this occasion Maximilian behaved with great consideration, and showed deep sympathy with his distressed relatives. Instead of making a public entry through the city, he rode up through the park to the private gate of the Castello, where the duke and duchess met him and conducted him to his rooms. Here he spent the evening alone in their company, and refused to see any one but the little Count of Pavia, for whom he is said to have cherished great affection.The Venetian envoy, Francesco Foscari, hearing of the emperor's arrival, hastened to Pavia, and with difficulty obtained an audience from His Majesty, who told him that it was impossible for him to visit Milan or remain any longer in Italy, since the German Diet was about to meet, and he had promised to join his son, the Archduke Philip, at Augsburg. A council was held in the Castello to discuss political affairs, but it was plain that the Pisans had nothing more to expect from their imperial ally, and Maximilian was only anxious to be back in Germany. On the 4th he attended a solemn requiem mass for the lamented princess Bianca in the Duomo, and in the afternoon rode out to the Certosa with Lodovico, who showed him all the wonders of that famous church and abbey. On the 6th, the duke took his wife, whose delicate state of health needed rest, back to Milan, and a few days later returned with Foscari to meet the emperor at the ducal villa of Cussago. On the 11th, Maximilian went to Groppello, where he knighted the Venetian ambassador and dismissed him, after which he took leave of the duke, says the chronicler, with many expressions of affection on both sides, and once more set out on his journey across the terrible mountains. His expedition, remarked the Venetian writer, "has effected nothing, and he leaves Italy in still greater confusion than he found her."

Lodovico now joined his wife at Milan in time to receive another guest in the person of Chiara Gonzaga, the widowed Duchess of Montpensier, who was on her way back from France. Since her husband's death at Pozzuoli, this unfortunate lady had been vainly trying to recover her fortune from the French king, and was full of gratitude to the duke for his friendly exertions on her behalf. Both her sons, Louis de Bourbon and Charles the famous Connétable, were fighting with the remnants of the French army against her brother in Naples, and both were to lose their lives in the wars of Italy, while she herself spent the rest of her existence in poverty and seclusion at Mantua. But to the last she remained a loyal friend to Lodovico, with whom she corresponded frequently. On the 22nd, Chiara left Milan, and the celebration of the Christmas festival began. But the courtiers and ladies-in-waiting noticed the strange and mournful forebodings which seemed to oppress their young duchess. Theyoften saw tears in her eyes, and wondered whether they were caused by her husband's neglect or grief for the loss of Bianca. Day after day she paid long visits to the Church of S. Maria delle Grazie, where the duke's daughter had been laid to rest in this his favourite shrine. There in those last days of the year Beatrice might constantly be seen, spending hours in prayer at the tomb of the young princess, and musing sadly on the vanity of human joys. But no one dreamt how soon her own end was at hand.

On Monday, the 2nd of January, the Duchess Beatrice drove in her chariot through the park of the Castello and along the streets of the city to the Porta Vercellina and the Church of S. Maria delle Grazie, where even then Leonardo was at work upon his great fresco. In the eyes of the people who saw her pass, she seemed in excellent health, and returned their loyal greetings with the same gracious charm. But when she reached the Dominican church, and had paid her devotions at Our Lady's altar, and prayed for the repose of her daughter's soul, she lingered by the new-made tomb, rapt in sorrowful thought, and it was long before her ladies could persuade her to come away. After her return to the Castello that afternoon, there was dancing in her rooms in the Rocchetta until eight o'clock in the evening, when she was suddenly taken ill. Three hours later she gave birth to a still-born son, and half an hour after midnight her spirit passed away.

That night, contemporary writers tell us, "the sky above the Castello of Milan was all a-blaze with fiery flames, and the walls of the duchess's own garden fell with a sudden crash to the ground, although there was neither wind nor earthquake. And these things were held to be evil omens." "And from that time," adds Marino Sanuto, "the duke began to be sore troubled, and to suffer great woes, having up to that time lived very happily."

Beatrice was gone, and with her all the joy and delight of the duke's life had passed away. The court was turned from an earthly paradise into the blackest hell, and ruin overtook the Moro and the whole realm of Milan, as the poet of the house of Este sang in hisOrlando Furioso—

"Come ella poi lascerà il mondo,Così degli infelici andrà nel fondo."

[63]Dr. Müller-Walde inJahrbuch d. pr. Kunst, 1897.

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