war, marked by devastation rather than by victory, barren of laurels, crowned by no enduring conquest. The two allied leaders repaired to Siena, where they were honourably welcomed, Federigo being lodged in the episcopal palace. In accordance with the custom of that age, a large donation was given to each of them, consisting of calves, wedders, capons, corn, bread, wine, almond-cakes, almonds, ray-fish, pheasants, chickens, pigeons, etc. Many influences favourable to peace were now brought to bear upon the Pontiff; and although his own wishes were for a further humiliation of the Medici, his ally of Naples being tired of a struggle in which no personal interest was at stake, and no trophies had been earned, he could not prevent the offer of a truce. It was eagerly accepted by the Florentines, whose position was one of imminent peril. Long unused to arms, and totally alien to the military spirit of the Peninsula, it was their habitual policy to trust for defence to hired troops. Their merchant families sent forth no martial geniuses, and Lorenzo avoided appearing in the field, for which he felt himself in no way qualified. But on this occasion they were singularly unfortunate in their defenders. Nominally backed by all Upper Italy, they had no effectual aid from Venice, occupied in protecting her mainland from the Turks. The Duke of Ferrara, though titular leader of their motley army, possessed neither talent nor influence to occupy such a position. The other free captains sought their separate interests, and the hereditary feuds of the Braccian and Sforzan companies broke out for the last time, as the remnants of these once famous bands found themselves encamped together. Even after this element of mutiny had been extinguished, by detaching Carlo Braccio and his following on the Perugian expedition, new quarrels arose between the Lords of Ferrara and Mantua, which so disorganised the army that Machiavelli declares it took to flight at Poggio Imperiale on seeing the dust raised by the enemy's approach, abandoning to them camp, baggage, and artillery. But this writer, prejudiced against the whole military system, may be read with some qualification, when he declares its poltroonery to have been such that the turn of a horse's head, or the whisking of his tail, was enough to put it in a panic. Yet, with every allowance, it seems clear that, had the confederates of Lower Italy then marched upon the capital, instead of loitering on the Val d'Elsa, the fondest wishes of Sixtus might have been gratified; and Baldi confers no honour on the Duke of Urbino in claiming for him the credit of successfully thwarting such a proposal, upon no better grounds than that the army was too ill-disciplined to withstand the temptations of success in so attractive an enterprise.
Lorenzo was alive to the delicacy of his position; the finances of his country and his private resources wasted upon useless stipendiaries; the patience of even his partisans exhausted by a mismanaged and unfortunate war. His resolution was magnanimously formed and boldly executed. Early in December he suddenly embarked for Naples to plead for peace, if not for his family at least for his fellow citizens. The fate of Giacopo Piccinino, in 1465, rendered such an appeal to Ferdinand one of chivalrous daring, but it fully succeeded. The gratifying compliments bestowed on Lorenzo were only equalled by his own munificence; and although negotiations were protracted by Ferdinand's cold and unrelenting disposition, and by the intrigues of Sixtus, he was finally successful in removing all difficulties, and in concluding a defensive treaty with Naples, which was proclaimed on the 25th of March. The Pope, unable to maintain the war single-handed, had no option but to accede; it was not, however, until the end of the year that he would grant a formal remission, and the removal of ecclesiastical censures. To obtain this grace, there arrived in Rome in November an embassy of eleven eminent citizens of Florence, who, prostrated in the dust on Advent Sunday in the metropolitan church, confessed their derelictions of duty, and implored pardon. They, however, did not receive absolution until the irate Pontiff had read them a severe rebuke, and had gently applied to the shoulders of each a scourge of penance, whilst they recited the fifty-first penitentiary psalm.194
Whilst the Duke of Calabria remained at Siena, nominally to overawe the Florentines, and maintain his recent advantages, but in reality ripening those schemes by which, ever since 1446, the house of Aragon had aimed at establishing their influence in that republic, Federigo, after being entertained at a ball in the Palazzo Pubblico, on the 18th of December, 1479, went to the baths of Viterbo, which had been recommended for his still suffering limb. We owe to Sanzi some notice of his residence in that town, where his numerous suite, and his own graceful and polished address, made a general sensation. It was his delight to receive as guests such personages of distinction as passed that way to Rome. Among these was the Duke of Saxony, who was repairing to the Holy City on a pious pilgrimage with a goodly cortège. To him and his attendants Federigo's courtly demeanour and splendid hospitality were an agreeable surprise: though "barbarians" by birth, they were fully qualified to appreciate such civilities, nor were they allowed to depart without a promise to renew their visit to him at Urbino on their return homewards. His son, Guidobaldo, and his nephew, Ottaviano della Carda, joined in doing the honours to their guest, who was distantly related to them through the Gonzaga family, and they parted with mutual compliments and good wishes. Soon after Christmas, Federigo received from the Pope, by the hands of Pier Felice, his resident at Rome, the Sword and Hat, honours among the highest at his Holiness's disposal, and reserved for sovereigns of tried fidelity and devotion to the papacy, but which seemed on this occasion to acquire new illustration in the person of the recipient. In May he addressed this letter to his allies of Siena:—
"Mighty and potent Lords, dearest Brothers,
"It has pleased our lord his Holiness, and his Majesty the most serene King, that I may return home; where, and wherever I may be, your magnificences may dispose of me and mine as of your own, for this much my long and true friendship requires and exacts. And I ever shall remember the great love and kindness I met with in many parts of your land. Moreover I recommend to you my son Antonio, for whom I have taken the precaution to let him be conducted home by the goodness of Ottaviano, who accompanies him to Naples, not being at present otherways required. From Viterbo, the 19th May, 1480.
"Federigo Duca d'Urbino, manu propria."
Bidding adieu to Viterbo amid the regrets of its inhabitants, the Duke went to meet his daughter the Princess of Salerno; and having greatly suffered from fatigue and pain during the last two years, returned home almost a wreck. He was triumphantly welcomed by his people, and soon after received a visit from Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, then on his way to France as papal legate. About this time the Ordelaffi of Forlì, making a final effort to maintain themselves against Count Girolamo, appealed to Federigo. But being unable to espouse their part while himself in the papal service, he counselled the last survivor of that race to compromise with Riario by a sale of his rights, and to hope for better days. This having been at length effected, Girolamo and his Countess visited their new principalities, where, notwithstanding the popular dissatisfaction with changes which had extinguished the former dynasties, they speedily so gained all hearts, that Sanzi gravely questions whether Jove himself, if descending upon earth, would have had an equally honourable reception. This may be in some degree attributed to the fickleness of popular opinion, especially in a nation of lively and impressionable character; but there was much to recommend the new-comers. Possessed of ample means, and prodigal in their use, the ambition and political influence of Girolamo promised a long career of advancement and of coming glories for his subjects. Of Caterina, then in her twentieth year, we have this florid description from her biographer Fabio Oliva: "As she issued from her litter, it seemed as if the sun had emerged, so gorgeously beautiful did she appear, laden with silver, and gold, and jewels, but still more striking from her natural charms. Her hair, wreathed in the manner of a coronet, was brighter than the gold with which it was twined. Her forehead of burnished ivory almost reflected the beholders. Her eyes sparkled behind the mantling crimson of her fair cheeks, as morning stars amid those many-tinted lilies which returning dawn scatters along the horizon." In somewhat less inflated language, Ratti, the Sforzan biographer, says: "It would be difficult to find in history any female who so far surpassed her sex, who was so much the amazement of her contemporaries and the marvel of posterity. Endowed with a lofty and masculine spirit, she was born to command; great in peace, valiant in war, beloved by her subjects, dreaded by her foes, admired by foreigners." The features of this siren of her times are supposed to have been commemorated by more than one of those church pictures into which it was then customary to introduce likenesses of the donors and their families, especially the altar-piece of the Torelli Chapel by Marco Palmeggiani, still in the church of S. Girolamo at Forlì, which represents Caterina, her husband, and her