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Authors: Elizabeth Lev

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As he masterminded these desperate and haphazard plans, Girolamo incurred the displeasure of the entire papal court and the permanent enmity of his cousin Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere. The cardinal had argued against the Pazzi conspiracy, but he had been overruled. Now, in the wake of the disaster, the pope heeded Cardinal Giuliano's vehement protest against Girolamo's fruitless actions. The count desisted, but the rift within the papal family was already widening. Girolamo realized that it was time to regain the pope's favor by producing an heir.

After over two years of waiting, Caterina became pregnant with her first child over the Christmas holidays of 1478. Girolamo, in his new spirit of dedication to hearth and family, purchased a new family palace, tucked behind the Piazza Navona, in early 1479. The building needed a considerable amount of work, so between the arrival of the firstborn and the departure from the first home, there was much to prepare.

Whatever private disappointments Caterina may have felt regarding her husband's character and political failures were put aside as she dedicated herself to the role of devoted wife, whose first and foremost duty was to produce a male heir to carry on the family line. Caterina's life altered radically in the months of her pregnancy. Her long horseback rides and hunts ceased, and she spent more time in chapels, praying for a safe delivery and the arrival of a baby boy. Every year at Easter, the wax from the Paschal candle, a symbol of Christ's resurrection, was molded into little cakes, each called "Agnus Dei," or "Lamb of God," and stamped with a sacred image. The most precious of these would be personally blessed by the pope and kept in a special gold box. Almost every expectant mother would be given one, as it was believed to help protect women in childbirth. Pope Urban VI (1378–1389) had sanctioned this practice, declaring a century earlier that this object of devotion "preserves the pregnant woman and delivers her of her child."
1

Caterina received her Agnus Dei from Pope Sixtus, along with his blessing. Over the next months it would provide spiritual solace as she faced the fears related to childbirth. In Caterina's age, painkillers were few, and one of every ten women died from complications of delivery.

On August 31, 1479, Caterina and Girolamo's first son was born. Caterina sent a letter, marked by joy and relief, to Bona the very next day: "It being pleasing to the great Creator and His glorious Mother on the last day of August at about the sixth hour of the night [midnight], I gave birth to a beautiful male child: God be praised."
2

Indeed, her prayers had been answered: it was a boy and she was already recovering. The celebrations began, as relatives and well-wishers lined up outside the Riarios' house, bearing gifts. For Caterina they brought fruits and sweets piled high on beautifully crafted "birth trays." After the perishables were consumed, the family could keep the brightly painted platters, some of wood, some of ceramic, some painted with the family coat of arms, and some decorated with a plump and cheery image of the infant John the Baptist, cousin to Jesus and born safely to the aged Elizabeth. The proud parents hung the trays on the walls. The new mother, proud, radiant, and arrayed in special robes, welcomed her visitors while sitting up in her maternity bed, now covered with sumptuous cloths. Musicians, discreetly tucked into a corner of the room, played soothing airs on pipes and lyres to accompany the murmurs of Caterina's guests. The infant, laid like a precious pearl in his cradle, received luxurious swaddling linens and coral amulets, which were worn as protective talismans.

For families of this era, however, delivery was only the first hurdle. Half of all children died before the age of two, and another half of those remaining died before they reached sixteen years. The fear of infant death made baptism a pressing concern. More than a gift-giving party or the official entry into society, baptism offered the assurance that whatever happened during the uncertain years of childhood, the infant's soul would live forever in Heaven. The baptism of Girolamo and Caterina's firstborn was a grand affair, celebrated by the pope himself. The child was given the name Ottaviano, the birth name of the heir of Julius Caesar who became the emperor Augustus, ruled the Roman Empire, and brought peace to war-torn Rome. This auspicious name proclaimed the design of Sixtus and Girolamo to create a Riario empire.

Among the many high-ranking Romans present at the baptism, the most celebrated of all was Cardinal Roderigo Borgia, who stood as godfather to the infant Ottaviano. Born in Spain in 1431, he was made a cardinal in 1456 by his uncle Pope Callistus III, and he had been climbing curial ladders ever since. Roderigo had obtained the most lucrative position in the church, that of papal vice chancellor, and thus he headed the office responding to requests for papal favors. Any person looking for work, references, or recommendations from the pope had to apply to Cardinal Borgia, with a "gift" in hand. In this coveted role, Roderigo had amassed an enormous amount of money, much of which he spent building the most splendid palace in Rome, likened by contemporaries to the legendary Domus Aurea, the Golden House of the emperor Nero.

Roderigo's similarities to Nero did not end with domestic architecture. The handsome Borgia cardinal also fueled Rome's gossip mills. With his dark, flashing eyes and hawklike features, he was fascinating to women and made no attempt to restrain his sexual appetite. Roderigo's successes with the most beautiful women of his age were attributed to his "honeyed and choice eloquence" as well as his massive personal fortune. Already the self-indulgent cardinal had been rebuked by Pope Pius II, no stranger to excess himself, for a garden party he hosted in Siena, which, according to reports that had reached the pope's ears, could only be called an orgy. At the time of Ottaviano's baptism Roderigo already had six or seven children, and his mistress Vanozza de' Cattanei was pregnant and would give birth to a daughter, Lucrezia. This scheming, sensual prelate had great ambitions for his own offspring. The hands that tenderly cradled Caterina's son at the baptismal font would eventually work against him.

Caterina recovered quickly from the birth of her first child, due in part to her youthful good health and also to her desire to show off her firstborn to her stepmother. But her plans to visit Bona unexpectedly came to a halt. Her sunny news from Rome was met by chill winds from Milan.

Caterina's stepmother had been efficiently ruling Milan as regent for her young son, Gian Galeazzo, helped by her deceased husband's loyal secretary of state, Cicco Simonetta. Cicco had given a lifetime of service to the Sforza family, weathering the challenges posed by revolution and assassination. It would take a different sort of entanglement to end Bona and Cicco's administration.

In 1479, palace voices whispered that the thirty-year-old widowed duchess had taken a lover. His name was Antonio Tassino, a handsome young footman in her household. The infatuated duchess shared the secret deliberations of her court and other sensitive information with her new favorite, earning him the resentment of the faithful Cicco, who refused to discuss matters of state in the presence of the upstart. Soon the duchess found herself at the center of a bitter rivalry within her own intimate circle. Her brothers-in-law, especially Ludovico, known as "the Moor" because of his dark complexion, had been waiting for such a golden opportunity to reintroduce themselves into court. Their ambition and dubious loyalty had led Galeazzo Maria to keep them at arm's length, a policy followed by the regent Bona. They seized upon the naive Tassino as a path to Bona. Professing a sincere desire to make peace with his sister-in-law, Ludovico implored Tassino to convince Bona to speak with him. Under Tassino's influence, the duchess relented and agreed to meet him on September 7, 1479. The moment Cicco heard of the encounter, he solemnly foretold that because of it, he would "lose his head and the illustrious duchess would lose her reign."
3
Three days later, Cicco was imprisoned for treason.

These machinations surprised Caterina, who had delivered her first child two weeks earlier. Bona's letter of congratulations was followed two days later by the news of Cicco's arrest. For the modern reader, Caterina's perfunctory letters of congratulations to Bona and to the duke's secretary upon hearing the news of Cicco's arrest are hard to interpret at first glance. Although the letter to Bona is more guarded in content, promising prayers for a peaceful reign, Caterina wrote in buoyant tones to the secretary of Duke Gian Galeazzo and his new guardian, Ludovico the Moor, claiming that "short of raising her father from the dead," nothing could please her more than the news of the arrest of the "nefarious Cicco."
4
While undoubtedly the papal courtiers had explained to her that Cicco had betrayed her family and was even complicit in the murder of her father, she must have wondered how a mainstay of her childhood household, whom she had seen continually at her father's side, could have turned traitor. A further detail sheds more light on Caterina's approach to this situation. Her letters were sent on September 18, 1479, on the same day and in the same mail pouch as Pope Sixtus's response to the news. The pontiff was delighted at this change of affairs, hoping to establish an alliance with a more powerful ruler in Milan and perhaps form a league against Florence, a goal that was still foremost in his mind. Caterina's letters, echoing papal sentiments, show that she was learning the ways of diplomacy. Caterina adapted quickly, and two months after the upheaval in Milan, she was already writing Bona to ask for new hunting dogs and lamenting that Roman hounds "were no good."
5
Returning to her riding regimen soothed her spirits.

Within a year, Cicco's dire prophecy came true: the man who had served three dukes of Milan was beheaded, and Bona lost her political authority. Ludovico the Moor took over the rule of Milan as regent for the young duke Gian Galeazzo.

Caterina had little time to enjoy the hunt or concern herself with Milanese affairs since by Christmas 1479 she was pregnant again, just three months after the birth of Ottaviano. Renaissance noblewomen were discouraged from breastfeeding their own children, and consequently they could become pregnant again soon after childbirth. Caterina prepared to put aside her hunting gear once more and to don the garb of an expectant mother. This time, however, sixteen-year-old Caterina's days were packed with increased responsibilities. The new palace was nearing completion, and the Riarios had to see to its decoration. Girolamo, nouveau riche that he was, had a taste for conspicuous consumption. He hired Sixtus IV's court painter, Melozzo da Forlì, to create most of the murals, and Luca Pacioli, the famous mathematician, to serve as architect. These two men had worked in many important courts and could recognize that Girolamo, unlike their more cultured patrons, knew nothing about art. He equated the most expensive and complicated with the best, and so the two men amused themselves at Girolamo's expense. As the last pilasters of the courtyard were put into place, Pacioli and Melozzo vied to invent the most intricate designs possible for the capitals. The two practical jokers plied Girolamo with the names of famous aristocratic patrons who employed this decoration, then watched as Girolamo seized upon the idea and browbeat the poor master carver into fashioning the gaudy stonework. Yet despite Girolamo's lack of taste, the Riario palace, like all those constructed for the family of Sixtus IV, grew into a magnificent structure.

Caterina's front door was situated one block from the new market in the Piazza Navona. As she and her attendants returned from the daily shopping and crossed the narrow stone entrance, the guards stationed in a room to the right leapt to attention. Her servants veered to the left to deposit the day's purchases in the kitchen while Caterina herself entered the columned courtyard at the center of the house. This area was a beehive of activity. All the little rooms facing onto it were filled with the Riarios' dependents, who were hard at work. The muffled scratch of quills on parchment came from one office, where secretaries huddled over the count's correspondence and accountants toted up the domestic expenses. Footmen were dispatched to bring staple goods from storage cellars, and a few off-duty servants would be chatting while sharing a quick snack. Under the tower, the horses were groomed in the stable and carriages received their regular maintenance. A little garden peeked through an archway, offering an oasis of fresh air and greenery in the heart of the city.

As she climbed the wide stone stair to the
piano nobile,
the most elegant story where the family lived and received guests, the clatter and buzz of cooking and talking would fade. A few steps from the landing, Caterina entered the relative quiet of her own apartments. Her rooms were comfortably furnished, and because the dowry of a Sforza noblewoman traditionally included magnificent textiles, expensive tapestries adorned the walls, and plush silk and velvet cushions padded the furniture. Her clothes and accessories were kept in large wooden chests called
cassone,
storage solutions for an era without bureaus or closets. Caterina had accumulated many such chests since her childhood, and several boasted painted panels portraying heroines of chastity, models for a young bride. Young Ottaviano's nursery was close to her room; the child was constantly tended by a servant there. Girolamo's rooms were separate but easily reached, and they were decorated with equal splendor. His courtiers occupied the outer rooms, and the count's inner sanctum consisted of three rooms and a study. A long hall with a large carved fireplace stood between the two sets of living quarters and served as a reception space for the numerous noble visitors that the nephew of the reigning pope was expected to entertain.

Melozzo da Forlì, still receiving accolades for his stunning murals in Sixtus IV's new Vatican library, executed the decorative painting for the public areas of the palace. Only one fragment survives today, but the faded fresco offers an interesting glimpse of the owner's tastes. Melozzo was renowned as a master of the avant-garde one-point-linear perspective, the technique of making a three-dimensional image on a two-dimensional surface. For the Riarios he painted an illusionistic cupboard against an elaborate tapestry background. Arrayed along the wooden shelves, he depicted an elaborate silver service, with scalloped plates and bowls. This display of finery perfectly matched the description of the arrangement of Caterina and Girolamo's wedding gifts at their marriage banquet three years earlier. It is unlikely that Caterina would have approved the commission. Though she had been raised in an extravagant court, the duke of Milan would never dream of decorating his public rooms with paintings of his possessions. But Caterina did admire the skill of the artist. Years later, when she would finally commission her own paintings, she too would hire Melozzo da Forlì.

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