The Tigress of Forli (7 page)

A day later, another member joined the party: Gian Luigi Bossi, counselor to the duke of Milan. Bossi, carrying specific instructions from Bona of Savoy, was to accompany the party all the way to Rome. His special task was to watch over Caterina, ensuring that the young countess "conduct herself well and honorably and that she not become ill either from riding or the heat."
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Bona's dual concerns reflected her twin roles: a head of state dealing with a delicate political situation and a loving stepmother whose daughter was traveling far from home for the first time.

Bona had done everything she could to prepare the way for Caterina, writing ahead to each town, alerting its people to offer a proper welcome to their noble guest. Only in the little town of Reggio was there no one to greet the cavalcade, but that was only because the group had arrived earlier than expected. On that evening, the aristocratic retinue stayed in relatively humble accommodations, which Caterina, unruffled, described as "a pleasant inn." In Modena and Piacenza, however, local nobles opened their homes and hearts to Caterina. Not only was she "affectionately and enthusiastically" received in Bologna, but she also stayed as a guest in the palace of the ruling family, the Bentivoglios. Caterina politely expressed much delight in being so honored, but in letters to her sister, she modestly acknowledged that the pomp and glory could not be ascribed to her own merits, but to "the grace of Her Ladyship, my mother." Like many an adolescent, Caterina was more energized than fatigued by her busy social calendar of visits, feasts, and parties, enabling Bossi to write to the duchess that he had found Caterina "healthy, beautiful, and well-mannered."
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Her childhood amid the elaborate rituals of her father's court had prepared her well for long hours of banquets, speeches, and spectacles: not once did anyone catch the young countess looking impatient or weary.

The homage she received in towns along the route paled by comparison with Caterina's reception in her new dominion. On May 1, she left Bologna to travel the twenty miles to Imola. She arrived in the late afternoon to find the entire city turned out to greet her. As Caterina gushed in her letter to Chiara, "The people of Imola don't usually celebrate much, but it seemed that even the very stones were delighted by my arrival."
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The curious onlookers were not disappointed by the first appearance of the young countess. Teenager though she was, Caterina knew how to walk the red carpet. She requested a pause in the journey as soon as the town came into view in order to bathe, change her clothes, and groom herself elegantly. She rode into Imola not dusty and travel worn, but splendidly attired, a young woman with a regal bearing. The Milanese sense of style was ingrained in Caterina, and high fashion delighted her.

Countess Caterina Riario wore the most magnificent of her wedding gifts from her husband: a gold brocade dress embroidered with almost a thousand tiny pearls. Several strands of pearls of varying sizes encircled her long fair neck, while from her straight, slim shoulders hung a heavy cape of black silk trimmed with gems. There were nevertheless some incongruities in her appearance. Her heavy veil and jeweled hair net, appropriate for a matron, seemed cumbersome framing such a youthful face.

The elders of Imola greeted her at the gate and presented her with the keys to the city. This gesture was followed by a ceremony during which odes and orations honored the new rulers. The most spectacular blooms of May had been gathered and woven into garlands to line Caterina's path along the straight main street. The heady scent of lilies and roses mingled with the sweet trilling voices of the Imolese children, who ran alongside the countess, serenading her. In the central square, a grand pavilion had been erected for the occasion and here Caterina took her place on a podium, which was swathed in luxurious green velvet, and met the nobles of the city.

Girolamo's sister Violante Riario Ricci, the wife of the governor of Imola, was there to welcome Caterina and introduce her to the other noblewomen. In a short time they were all happily acquainted. After the formalities and presentations were concluded, the banquets began. The main hall of the governor's palace had been specially decorated for the occasion, and even the Milanesi, world famous for their silks and brocades, were stunned by the dazzling panels of turquoise cloth lining the ceiling and the exquisite tapestries adorning the walls. One section of the room was taken up by a broad cabinet groaning under the weight of the gold and silver dinnerware arrayed on its shelves.

Five hundred years ago, Emilia-Romagna was already the food capital of Italy, and its denizens put great stock in meals and feasts. The Imolesi brought Caterina foodstuffs as gifts: golden wheat from the fertile plains of Romagna, fragrant sausages and cured meats made from the well-fed pigs of the region, and numerous delectable cheeses, some aged to sharp perfection and others still fresh and soft. Caterina invited her many well-wishers to remain for dinner and the party went on far later than expected; candelabras were brought into the dining chamber to keep the festivities going until late at night.

For several days, Caterina's life was a constant celebration. Morning Mass in the chapel was followed by picnics in the countryside, visits to the marketplace, and of course, many meals, which were wonderful not only for "the variety and the delicacy of the foods but also for the abundance." Caterina was installed in quarters appropriate to her state. Her suite of rooms was lavishly appointed with white damask silk panels highlighted with gold embroidery. Dozens of soft cushions covered the velvet chairs, and a crimson coverlet lay upon her bed.

Outside, however, the town of Imola appeared starkly rustic. Gian Luigi Bossi, Caterina's protector, reported that Imola was small and the houses poor looking, although he admired the fortress (recently rebuilt by Galeazzo Maria), which was strong and well fortified. While he had much to comment on concerning the customs of Imola, especially the dancing, he understood that his mission was not to observe the food, fashions, or footwork of the townspeople, but rather to assess the political stability of the city and its usefulness to Milan. He also had orders from Bona to inform the elders of Imola of the Sforza position on the question of Taddeo Manfredi.

He had been the lord of Imola until 1471, when it became apparent to all interested parties that he was losing his grip on the reins of power. With Taddeo enmeshed in quarrels with the branch of the Manfredi family in Faenza and threatened by his own immediate relatives, Imola had been ripe for the plucking. Venice and Florence were already extending exploratory tentacles into the city when Galeazzo Maria abruptly intervened. The Sforzas had ousted the Manfredi family gently: first, they invited Taddeo to Milan; then, after wining and dining him, they offered him a hefty pension if he would give up the city. In 1477, though Taddeo was safely ensconced within Milanese territory with his son, he was ever present in the minds of troublemakers in Imola. After the assassination of Caterina's father, word began circulating that there were plans to restore the Manfredi rule there. These rumors had reached Bona, who dispatched a message via Bossi to the leading families of Imola, stating that Count Girolamo Riario had the full support and trust of the duke of Milan. She warned any supporters of Manfredi that they would find themselves with more enemies than they bargained for if they made a move on Imola. At the same time, Bona assured the townspeople that she fervently wished them prosperous years of "peace and quiet" with their new lords.

Caterina's letters from her voyage reveal a dutiful daughter who knew that her childhood years were over and that she must now embark on adult life. Snippets of youthful emotion flash in her excitement over her popularity or in her wistful greeting to an old nursemaid, but she was trained to temper sentiment with obedience. Nonetheless, faint stirrings of an intuitive and impulsive nature do emerge. Despite all the splendor and amusements surrounding her, Caterina knew something was wrong. The countess had no count, the bride no groom. Girolamo had not been heard from. He had not met her in Milan nor was he here to share the honors with her in Imola. Caterina eagerly awaited the moment when she would be summoned to Rome to begin married life, but each day came and went with no news. On May 4, a rumor spread through Imola that Count Girolamo was coming to escort his bride personally to Rome. Caterina's impatience to continue her journey was noted by Gian Luigi Bossi, who wrote to the duchess of Milan that Caterina was "so desirous to find herself in the presence of his Holiness and to see her Count Girolamo that it seems to me her principal care and concern."
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Although Caterina had supposed she would spend only a short time in Imola, she found herself delayed yet another ten days.

Bona of Savoy knew why. Letters from the Milanese ambassador at the papal court had apprised her of an attempt on Girolamo's life. The pope's favorite had already displayed a gift for making enemies, one of whom was his own cousin Giuliano della Rovere, cardinal of the Church of Saint Peter in Chains and another nephew to Sixtus IV. In Rome, two men had been captured and imprisoned for plotting to murder the count. They confessed that they had been approached by a bishop, the patriarch of Venice, in the name of Cardinal Giuliano and offered a large reward for the assassination of Girolamo. Interrogated further, however, they admitted that they had never received any such orders directly from the cardinal's lips. Anxious for Girolamo's well-being and alarmed by the rampant treachery within the very walls of the Vatican palace, the pope thought it best that the count avoid travel for a while. As an added precaution, Sixtus replaced Girolamo's personal bodyguard with the trusted Giovanni Battista da Montesecco, prized for his discretion.

The pontiff likewise deemed Rome unsafe for the young Caterina and offered the anxious young bride a number of plausible excuses for the wait. In one letter to the countess, he expressed concern for her health and offered an alternative means by which the young couple could be reunited. "The extreme heat which has arrived early this year and the natural bad air [malaria] in Rome,... and the suspicion of plague" made it unwise to bring the "beloved" Caterina to Rome. As she had grown up in the "good air" of Milan, she would not be used to hot Roman summers. The pope feared that her voyage to Rome would end in people saying that he "had brought her here to kill her," and he suggested that she remain in Imola until the cooler season began in September. The wily pontiff also appealed to the countess's love of glamour and pageantry, pointing out that because it was so soon after her father's death, he would not be able to put on a lavish reception for her at this time, out of respect for the memory of the fallen duke. To relieve Caterina's worries about her husband's absence, the pope offered to send Girolamo to Imola at the beginning of June.
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The pontiff's missive expressed a view of marriage more romantic than that of Girolamo. He too had sent a letter—not to Caterina, but to Bona and the child duke Gian Galeazzo—two days after Caterina's arrival in Imola. He too cited the poor health conditions of Rome as the reason to delay Caterina's journey, but he made only the most perfunctory allusions to his love for his wife and his recognition of her merits.

But Caterina never saw either letter. Before they could arrive, she took the initiative and left Imola for the twelve-day journey to Rome. Each night, the huge entourage was feted as it stopped along the route, until May 24, when she finally arrived at Castel Novo fourteen miles from the city.

The news of the imminent arrival of the countess galvanized the papal court. Courtiers were summoned, gifts were prepared, and grand halls decorated to pay homage to the union of the Sforza and Riario lines. The next morning, Caterina embarked on the last leg of the journey into Rome. At seven miles from the city gates, the Milanesi were met by a large party of horsemen arrayed in black silk and velvet, despite the hot May sun. As the elegant coterie grew nearer, the standard of the Riario rose came into view. After four years, the bride and groom would finally set eyes on each other once more. Onlookers were delighted to see that when the count and countess descended from their horses, they "took each other by the hand and kissed and embraced."
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Caterina must have seemed much changed to Girolamo, who had last seen her as the ten-year-old hastily packaged for his bed in 1473.

Girolamo, now thirty-four, was aging fast. Ill health, a self-indulgent lifestyle, and several sleepless nights due to the conspiracies against his life made the count seem even more sallow. But Caterina evinced only delight at being reunited with her husband as they moved out of the blazing sunshine into a grove of shady trees, where Girolamo presented his Roman escort to the Milanese envoys. Numerous soldiers accompanied Girolamo, but Caterina, unaware of the plots against her husband, would have taken their presence as an indication of his powerful position rather than protection against assassins.

After traveling a few miles farther, the princely cavalcade stopped for a lunch arranged by the Riario clan, and after the hottest hours of the day had passed, they continued toward Rome. More and more city notables appeared to greet the papal favorite and his wife as they approached. The prefect, or mayor, of Rome, Leonardo Riario, another papal nephew, met them at the three-mile point. Shortly thereafter, when they crossed the last bridge, the Ponte Molle, to enter the city, they were joined by members of the papal court. The coterie of dignitaries grew, numbering among them cardinals and ambassadors, and the enormous train made its way up the Monte Mario, a high hill just north of Rome, boasting a spectacular view of the city. There they stopped at the villa of the cardinal of Urbino. After a sumptuous dinner, Girolamo took Caterina to her chambers and presented her with a magnificent pearl necklace. Pearls were the most prized jewels of the Renaissance. The matching spheres of unblemished white were symbols of perfection and purity. The finest oyster beds lay in the Red Sea and Persian Gulf, both dominated by hostile Turkish fleets, which made obtaining the "Queen of Gems" extremely difficult. Girolamo's gift was probably meant as a token of apology for his long and silent absence. He did not, however, spend the night with his wife. He had been expressly ordered by the pope to return to the papal apartments that same evening. This time he was under instructions from his uncle to wait until the union had been formally blessed.