COUNT GUIDANTONIO found himself, on his succession, hampered by debts incurred in purchasing another ample investiture in vicariate from Boniface IX., which cost him 12,000 golden florins. But prudence quickly retrieved these embarrassments, and not only enabled him to add materially to his territories and influence, but to raise his house to unprecedented distinction. In 1408, the mountain republic of Assisi sought protection from his sway; and this was approved by Gregory XII., to whom he adhered in opposition to the antipope Benedict XIII.[*37] The disgraceful schisms which at this time agitated Europe, and convulsed the Church, had their influence upon the Count of Urbino, who refused to desert Gregory when he and his rival Benedict were simultaneously deposed by the general council of Pisa, as a means of restoring union and peace to Christendom. Ladislaus of Naples, adopting the same policy, appointed the Count his grand constable, and leader of the war he was carrying on against John XXII., the de facto pope, by whom he was consequently excommunicated. Guidantonio, however, made his peace with the Church in 1413, and was created its gonfaloniere, and vice-general of Romagna; thereafter he was for some time occupied against Braccio di Montone, who carried fire and sword into his territories, on his failing to make good part of the ransom of Carlo Malatesta, for which he had become security.[*38] This Braccio was a fair specimen of Italian captains of adventure. His ancestors were among the magnates of Perugia, which, under the guidance of an oligarchy, had stretched its sway over much of Umbria, extending almost from sea to sea. "But man's estate being ever unstable, when its citizens, indolent by inclination, had thus greatly augmented their dominion and wealth, their pride swelled with their means. They who had vanquished their neighbours, waxing savage in their very vitals, set to conquer each other; hence there arose fierce discords and cruel feuds. Verily the city of Perugia was in those days most liable to changes, for it was alternately governed by the nobles, or seized by the mob; in either case supremacy having been obtained by arms and violence, rather than by equity and moderation, the victors cruelly massacred or exiled their opponents." This quaint description, borrowed from Campano, the biographer of Braccio, was then applicable to almost every city and township of the Peninsula. It was his hero's fate to be expatriated in early life by some such convulsion, and nothing was left him but his good sword, to cut his way therewith as a condottiere, until he established a despotic authority in his birthplace, and won a high place in the martial annals of Italy. Even after his death at the Lake of Celano, his name was during half a century cherished by his followers as the prestige of victory, and we shall often find the Braccian bands, under NicolÒ Piccinino, opposed to those of his constant rivals the Sforza.

Cardinal Ottone Colonna, formerly bishop of Urbino, having been raised to the papacy in 1417, by the title of Martin V., Guidantonio lost no time in rendering him homage by an envoy, whom he next year followed in person, meeting the Pontiff at Mantua. His well-timed adhesion was repaid by a life-grant of the dukedom of Spoleto, after which he returned to defend his frontiers from his turbulent neighbour of Montone. On his arrival in Italy in 1419, Martin found his states greatly disorganised, and the temporal sway of the papacy deeply infringed by many seigneurs and communities, who had made themselves independent during the secession to Avignon, and in the prolonged schisms which had succeeded the return of Urban VI. to Rome. None of these had so much reason to dread the reckoning likely to follow the re-establishment of Christ's vicars in their ancient capital as the tyrant of Perugia, who was now at the height of his power. Unable to frustrate the impediments which Braccio threw in the way of his progress southward, the Pontiff paused at Florence, which he entered on the 26th of February; but even there he found a populace in the interest of his rebellious feudatory, and ever ready to outrage him with such taunts as "Martin Pope, not worth a plack."[39] Aware of the hazard of delay, and of the importance of gaining over a spirit so powerful for good or evil, Martin invited Montone to an interview, and found means to conciliate him by a compromise, recognising him as vicar of Perugia, Assisi, Todi, and Jesi, on his surrendering Orvieto, Terni, Narni, and Orte.[*40] He at the same time engaged his military services to reduce Bologna, then standing out for the deposed Pope John XXIII., who, on the fall of that his last stronghold, repaired to Florence to make submission to the reigning Pontiff, and died there in the end of that year.[*41] Martin's difficulties being thus overcome, he was enabled during the autumn to proceed in peace to Rome, and there to re-establish the metropolis of Christendom.

The Pope had availed himself of Braccio's visit to Florence to call thither the Count of Urbino, in order to effect a reconciliation between these rivals. Guidantonio, on this occasion, had from the magistracy of that city, as well as from his own over-lord, a highly honourable welcome, and in March, 1420, received, at the hands of his Holiness, the Golden Rose, a compliment usually conferred upon royalty.[*42] Three years later, he found himself widowed by the death of Rengarda, daughter of Galeotto Malatesta, Lord of Rimini, whom he had married in 1397, and who left him childless. After an interval, he strengthened his intimate relations with the Pontiff, by marrying Caterina, daughter of his brother Lorenzo Colonna, an alliance which secured him a series of further favours, in addition to a dowry of 5200 florins of gold. The nuptials were celebrated at Rome with great rejoicings, in the spring of 1424.[*43]

The house of Urbino had hereditary feuds of long standing with the Brancaleoni, a race of Guelphic principles, whose fiefs lay along the Apennines from Gubbio to Montefeltro, including all Massa Trabaria and the upper valley of the Metauro. Their recurring contests ended in a victory, or were compromised by a marriage, from which the former were usually the gainers. Upon pretences which it is needless amid conflicting statements to investigate, and assured of the Pontiff's support, Guidantonio had seized upon Castle Durante and other fortresses in 1424, and on the death of Bartolomeo Brancaleoni, leaving only a daughter,[*44] he arranged her marriage with his natural son Federico, whose fortunes we shall hereafter have to follow. The large territory thus absolutely or virtually placed under the Count continued with his posterity so long as the independence of Urbino was preserved.

To the impression which Guidantonio had made on his visit to Florence some ten years before he probably owed the baton of captain-general, sent him in the autumn of 1430 by that republic in their campaign against Lucca. But there he reaped no laurels. In an engagement fought in the face of his protestations, he suffered from NicolÒ Piccinino a total discomfiture, and, throwing up the command in disgust, he returned home early next year. About the same time his prosperity received a further check in the demise of his steady friend the Pontiff, who lived to see the schism that had perplexed the Church during half a century finally healed by the death of all his competitors for the chair of St. Peter. The triple tiara passed to the brows of Eugene IV., who visited Martin's undue partiality for his own family the Colonna, by escheats which they flew to arms to avenge. The Lord of Urbino, naturally leaning to the party of his wife's relations, lost the Pontiff's favour; but he gained a well-wisher in the Emperor Sigismund, who, while returning to Germany from his coronation at Rome, was magnificently entertained at that court, and conferred the honour of knighthood upon his host and the young Count Oddantonio.

The death of Countess Caterina, on the 9th of October, 1438, seems to have in a great degree broken the fine spirit of her husband, who immediately retired to pass ten days in devotional exercises at Loretto, and thenceforward devolved all his military cares upon his natural son Federigo. His few remaining years were given to pious works, to which the cathedral of Urbino and the church of San Donato, both founded in 1439, bear witness; and he is said to have then habitually worn, under his ordinary dress, the habit of St. Francis, in which he was interred. His death took place on the 20th of February, 1442,[*45] and he was buried in San Donato, where his cowled effigy is still seen on the pavement, his spurs of knighthood hanging from his sheathed sword-hilt, with a barbarous inscription, 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]

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 pairs of fowls, pheasants and pigeons without number, 20,000 measures of wine, and 2000 moggie of grain, besides 15,000 pounds of sweetmeats, and 12,000 of wax candles.[51] On the conclusion of festivities congenial to his tastes, but ill-suited to his impending fate, the young Duke lingered in dalliance with his bride, returning home only the eve of the fatal night which summoned him

"From that unrest which men miscal delight."

It remains doubtful whether his own marriage was ever completed, as supposed by Litta, but Isotta's cup was fully charged with bitters. During the festive celebration of her after nuptials with one of the Frangipani, the partner and lover of her maid of honour fell dead in the dance, an evil omen too fully realised in domestic dissensions which soon sent her back to her brother's court.

The Duke was buried in the church of S. Francesco, but his remains are said to have been subsequently removed to the chapter-house of that convent. In a neglected cloister leading from the church, there may still be seen two monuments bearing the Montefeltro arms, one of which, canopied by light columns of spiral Gothic, has a stork, holding in its mouth a scroll.[*52] Here probably was the ill-fated Oddantonio's tomb; the nameless dead to whom the other was dedicated may have been his grandfather, Count Antonio, or the Countess Rengarda, both of whom were interred in these precincts, where their graves were opened and identified in 1634.

There is little inducement to dwell on the few notices remaining of one whose character and fate merit no sympathy. Yet among a rich store of letters from the Montefeltrian princes to the government of Siena, we have selected two written by Oddantonio in Italian; one is characteristic, the other calculated to throw a more favourable light upon his disposition.

It does not distinctly appear whether the dignity of Duke was merely personal, or limited to the heirs male of Oddantonio's body. At all events it must have lapsed on his death, as it was not only dropped by his successor in the state, but Count Federigo, even after his new creation, called himself "first" Duke; in this he was followed by his descendants down to Francesco Maria II., the last of the race, who alone designated himself sixth Duke, counting from Oddantonio.[*54]