which will be found in the Appendix to our third volume.
On the demise of this prince, who has been sometimes confused with Count Guido the elder, "the city of Urbino was," in the simple words of an old chronicle, "left widowed and desolate." Of his character and merits, whatever has reached us is favourable. The doggerel verses of his epitaph celebrate his clemency and justice; his religion was manifested by the tenor of his latter years, the general respect of his contemporaries honoured him through life, and he left behind him an extended frontier and a condensed state. His surviving children were—
1 Oddantonio, his successor, born in 1426.
2 Bianca, married to Guidantonio or Guidaccio Manfredi, Lord of Faenza and Imola, who had been brought up at her father's court.
3 Violante, who was born in 1430, and at twelve years of age, married Domenico Malatesta Novello, Lord of Cesena. She was remarkable alike for talent and beauty; and her husband, who died childless in 1465, left a fine monument of his literary tastes, in the public library which remains in that city.
4 Agnesina, born in 1431, who in 1445 married Alessandro Gonzaga, Lord of Castiglione, a younger son of the first Marquis of Mantua.
5 Brigida Sueva.46
Count Guidantonio also left two natural children:
1 Federigo, afterwards Duke of Urbino;
2 Anna, Aura, or Laura, married in 1420 to Bernardino Ubaldino della Carda, although by some authorities his wife is incorrectly called sister of Count Guidantonio.47
Count Oddantonio from infancy gave promise of a character combining the virtues of his immediate predecessors with talents rare in any rank. But prematurely
"Lord of himself, that heritage of woe,"
the good seed was choked by tares springing from the too fertile soil; and a prince on whom nature and fortune, imperial and papal favour, concentrated their bounties, perished miserably and disgracefully ere he had attained to manhood. His birth occurred in 1424 or 1426,*48 his youth being distinguished by remarkable progress in liberal studies, and by rapidly mastering those accomplishments befitting the spurs of knighthood, with which he had been decorated in childhood by the Emperor Sigismund. Soon after his father's death, he repaired to Siena, to obtain from Eugene IV. a confirmation of his hereditary states, and to supplicate a renewed investiture of the dukedom of Spoleto. But the pontifical jurisdiction over the long-abandoned Italian provinces was as yet imperfectly consolidated, and Braccio di Montone had but recently shown to what peril it might be exposed by the restlessness of an overgrown feudatory. Profiting by this experience, his Holiness evaded compliance with Oddantonio's second request, but softened the refusal by conferring upon him the title of Duke, along with his patrimonial territories.
We have from the pen of Pius II. a narrative of this ceremonial, which took place on the 26th of April, 1443. "He who was to be created duke by the Pope repaired to his residence, suitably dressed, and arrayed in a mantle of gold, open on the right side from the shoulder to the ground. Thence he followed the Pontiff, holding the lower extremity of his cope, as he descended to the [cathedral] church to hear mass, and when his Holiness took his seat, he placed himself on the first step at his feet. Next he was made a knight of St. Peter, by girding him with a sword (which after three lunges in the air he resheathed) and by receiving three strokes with it on the shoulders, whilst his spurs were buckled on. The Duke-elect then kneeling, swore and promised reverence and obedience in time to come to the holy Church and to the Pope, serving him in all its behests, and defending his jurisdiction, rights, and territories, and bound himself to pay yearly on St. Peter's day, for his new dignity, a white hackney suitably accoutred. The Pontiff then placed the ducal cap on his head, and the sceptre in his hand, and the new Duke, having therewith kissed his Holiness's foot, was led by the two youngest cardinal-deacons to his place between them. Finally, having taken off his cap, he returned to the Pope's feet, and presented him with an offering of gold coin at his discretion, and, on conclusion of the mass, departed between the two cardinals, decorated with the ducal dignity: this was the ceremony performed by Eugene IV. for Oddantonio."
This Duke's brief life is shrouded in mystery; for contemporary authorities do not enable us to pronounce with certainty on the enormous vices wherewith tradition and innuendo have vaguely blackened his memory, whilst the narratives of Galli and Baldi, composed for his successors in a spirit of adulation rather than of truth, clearly overplead his defence. The testimony of Pius II. is so direct as to one atrocity, barbarous almost beyond belief, that it would be equally difficult to reject it, or crediting the tale, to limit the probable enormities of a wretch so inhuman. The accusations against him are that, intoxicated by good fortune, he cast off his early discipline, forgot the lessons of philosophy, and placing himself unreservedly in the guidance of dissolute favourites, dismayed his subjects by outrages the most licentious, and by cruelties the most revolting. The instance mentioned by Pius II. is that he had one of his pages, who had neglected to provide lights at the proper hour, enveloped in sear-cloth coated with combustibles, and then setting fire to his head, left him to the horrors of a lingering agony.
The account transmitted to us by his apologists mingles pity with our blame. They say that, desirous of suitably regulating his government, he listened to the silver-toned suggestions of his crafty and covetous neighbour, the Lord of Rimini, by whose advice he employed, as confidential ministers, Manfredi Pio da Carpi, and Tomaso Agnello da Rimini, men selected by Sigismondo as fitting instruments for his ruin. That, acting upon the instructions of their principal, these agents by precept and example debased the mind and corrupted the morals of the young prince, with the view of rendering his person and rule odious, and of accelerating a popular revolution, which might peril his life, or, at least, place his territories within the grasp of Malatesta. That in prosecution of this diabolical plot, they promoted loathsome orgies and shameless debaucheries, until the leading citizens, indignant at the dishonour which daily violated their domestic circles, rose at the instigation of Serafius, a physician whose handsome wife had been seduced by Manfredi. In the riot which followed, the two favourites and their master met a tragical end, and their bodies were exposed to nameless atrocities; but whether the popular vengeance was equally merited by, and inflicted upon the three, or whether the Duke was accidentally slain without being involved in these disgraceful malpractices, is a point likely to remain at issue. It would seem probable, however, from this passage of an old chronicle transcribed in the Oliveriana Library, that political discontent had a part in the rising: "On the 22nd of July, 1444, at lauds [three o'clock a.m.], Oddantonio was slain in his own hall, and along with him his familiar servants Manfredo de' Pii and Tomaso da Rimini; and forthwith the people of Urbino in one voice called for Signor Federigo, who at once took possession of the state. On the 1st of August, public proclamation was made of the abolition of imposts and of the assize of salt, and all penalties were remitted."*49 The same writer speaks vaguely of previous intestine broils, slaughters, and alarms, with other symptoms of feeble government, all indicating considerable disorganisation in the duchy, of which the Malatesta and Bartolomeo Colleone availed themselves to harass its frontiers.50
Alinari
LEONELLO D’ESTE
After the picture by Pisanello in the Morelli Gallery, Bergamo
There were tinges of peculiar sadness in the gloomy fate which thus overtook this unhappy youth. In the preceding summer he had been betrothed to Isotta, daughter of Nicolò Marquis of Ferrara, and but three months before his death, had attended the nuptials of her brother Leonello. On that occasion he spent fifteen days in joyous excitement, preluding, as he hoped, similar festivities in his own honour. After the piazza of Ferrara had glittered with a gallant show of chivalrous exercises, and had witnessed the semi-religious pageant of St. George's triumph over the dragon, it was, as if by magic, converted into a forest-scene, studded with goodly oaks amid a thick jungle of underwood, the haunt of numerous wild animals. Upon these the sportsmen wrought their pleasure, until the place was strewed with bodies of bullocks, steers, wild boars, and goats. As a test of the attendant good cheer, we have a return of provender consumed, amounting to 2000 oxen, 40,000