sons kneeling before the enthroned Madonna. Another likeness is given in the preceding page from a rare medallion of the lady of Imola in her more matronly years, whose descendants still subsist in various princely houses, and in the noble family of Riario Sforza at Naples. This much of a heroine who will reappear at intervals in our pages.
The adhesion of Sixtus to the treaty which closed the Tuscan war was partly extorted by his terror of the Turks, whose progress in Europe, as yet, had met with no decided reverse. The energy and skill of Loredano had, indeed, kept them in check during the campaigns of 1474–5, but Venice found herself exhausted by efforts which, although of vital moment to Christianity, she was left to make single-handed. The following year was one of comparative repose, till in 1477, the Infidels, bursting those ramparts along the Isonzo by which the Republic considered her territories secured, scoured the rich plains of Friuli, and burned the mainland palaces of her citizens within sight of the capital. During 1478 Troia fell, and Scutari suffered a long and hopeless siege, whilst Sixtus was wasting in the Tuscan war those energies which, as head of the Church, he might have easily united against the victorious Crescent. After vainly protesting, and threatening the Pontiff with a general council, the Signory, in January, 1479, concluded with Mahomet II. a disastrous peace, at the sacrifice of all their recent conquests in the East.
The Venetians were now justly incensed at the Pope and Ferdinand, who had not only refused them aid in defending Western Europe from Turkish inroads, but had effectually prevented Florence from contributing its contingent for that purpose. With the King there was a further cause of quarrel, as he had concluded a treaty with the Sultan in the spring of 1478, recognising conquests wrested by him from their Republic. Renouncing the tardy and uncertain remedy of a general council, they sought more summary vengeance by inviting Mahomet to invade Lower Italy, and when, after a siege of thirteen days, the Crescent waved over the walls of Otranto, they so successfully diverted suspicions of this anti-Italian policy from themselves to his Holiness, that Ferdinand threatened to throw open to the Infidel a passage to Rome. The panic which now spread throughout Italy, and this imminent peril of the Holy See, at length forced the Pontiff to merge selfish considerations, and to make an effort in the common cause. Bulls exhorting all Christian princes to unity, were followed by diplomatic arrangements with the powers of Italy; and Sismondi is probably correct in ascribing to the terror of this crisis the Pope's tardy absolution of the Medici and their adherents, which we have already mentioned, and which was accompanied with a condition that Florence should send a fleet to the rescue of Otranto.
The dangers impending over his own kingdom occasioned Ferdinand to recall his son from Siena, and to invoke Federigo's services against the Turk. The latter, foreseeing danger from the ambitious energy of Mahomet, had already protested against the King's imprudence in leaving his coasts unprotected, while pursuing schemes of idle ambition in Tuscany; he hastened notwithstanding to obey the summons, but was stopped by an order from Sixtus to guard the ecclesiastical sea-board, menaced by an incursion from Scutari. To his counsels, however, was ascribed the ultimate recovery of Otranto, in order to effect which the Pontiff and Lorenzo de' Medici had hastily united with Ferdinand. Exactly a year after its capture that city was restored by its Moslem garrison, discouraged by the Sultan's death three weeks previously. Yet these events which, by ridding Italy of invasion, and closing the career of her most formidable foe, ought to have been hailed with unalloyed satisfaction, were soon found to infer new dangers, by promoting those internal distractions habitually fermented in the Peninsula during each interval of repose.
CHAPTER XII
The war of Ferrara, and death of Duke Federigo—His character and portraits.
The sparks of discord, though smothered, were still smouldering in many quarters. Sixtus, whose restless ambition was stirred by schemes of nepotism for his unscrupulous nephew of Forlì, forgot not that Ferdinand had baulked him of full vengeance upon the Medici, and brooded over that monarch's threat of letting the Infidel march upon his capital. He also calculated that, in the scramble of a general war, some pickings might fall to the lot of Count Girolamo. Venice, moreover, had had good cause for apprehending retribution for Naples, for the scurvy trick she had played in bringing the Turks upon Lower Italy; and thus was the way prepared for new party combinations. It was against the Duke of Ferrara that these were chiefly directed; for besides the offence of being son-in-law to Ferdinand, his territory was a desirable acquisition both to the Republic and to Count Girolamo. To Venice the latter accordingly proceeded in September, on a mission from his uncle, and arranged for the partition of that duchy, of which Lugo and Bagnacavallo were to be his share, with full liberty to expel the Manfredi from Faenza and to appropriate their possessions. Among other preliminaries, he stipulated that Federigo should command the allied army, a proceeding not only unauthorised by the Duke, but in direct opposition to the moderate counsels and peaceful policy earnestly pressed by him upon the youthful envoy, during a recent visit at Urbino. The appointment was accordingly declined, nor was his determination shaken by an offer from the Signory of 80,000 ducats as retaining pay, on condition of his taking no part in the war: one of his family demurring to his rejection of so advantageous a proposal, he replied, that "good faith and its observance are still better, and worth more than all the gold in the world." In a long and earnest letter he warned the Pontiff of the impolicy and mischief of such projects, and the miserable results of fresh contests in Italy; urged upon his Holiness that the moment was favourable for turning the united arms of Christendom against the Turks, while distracted by disputes between the sons of Mahomet; and offered his shattered limbs for any post in that glorious cause. Views so repugnant to the schemes of Sixtus had no weight in the Camera, and gave great offence to Girolamo Riario.
Alinari
ASTORGIO III. DE’ MANFREDI
From the picture by Scaletti in the Pinacoteca of Faenza
As it was in his father-in-law Ferdinand's quarrels that the Duke of Ferrara was likely to be victimised, the former was not slow to interpose for his protection. Personal feeling, as well as a sense of justice and a keen perception of the true interests of Italy, brought Lorenzo de' Medici to the same side, while the adherence of Milan, Mantua, and Bologna was secured by an apprehension of the ambitious advances of the Holy See and Venice upon Romagna and Lombardy. By these six powers a league was accordingly formed to defend Ferrara; and, on the 17th April, Federigo was engaged as its captain-general for three years. During war he was to provide 600 men-at-arms and 562 infantry, with 165,000 golden ducats of pay; in peace he was to have 65,000 ducats, finding 300 men-at-arms and 375 foot soldiers. In the event of death, his son and troops were to complete the stipulated period of service, with 15,000 ducats of personal pay.195 Opposed to him was Roberto di Sanseverino, as leader of the Venetian army; and the papal contingent was nominally under Count Girolamo, who did not take the field, although the quarrel was in a great measure for his profit. The command of the ecclesiastical forces, thus vacated by the Duke of Urbino, had devolved upon his son-in-law Roberto Malatesta, who remained in Central Italy to occupy the Neapolitan troops at home, and protect Rome from the rebellious Colonna and Savelli. The Genoese and the Marquis of Montferrat adhered to the Venetian alliance.
The offer of an engagement by the League had been carried to Federigo, by six envoys commissioned from its leading powers, and was readily accepted. His preparations being completed, he set forth from his capital on St. George's day, while tearful eyes and ominous sighs attested his subjects' anxiety at the departure of their paternal sovereign, bent by failing health and advancing years. Besides his wonted suite, there followed him for many miles a train of men distinguished in letters and arts, philosophers, theologians, jurists, astronomers, and architects. By his side rode his nephew and confidential friend Ottaviano della Carda, to whom, as if anticipating his approaching end, he warmly and affectionately recommended his son Guidobaldo and all his friends. At the foot of the Apennines this sorrowing convoy quitted him to return home, whilst he crossed the mountains to Borgo San Sepolchro, where he was received by Lorenzo de' Medici. In the Val d'Arno he met his old and sage friend Antonio Bellanti, with