AS CATERINA CONTINUED her affair with Giacomo Feo, the political landscape in Italy was altering dramatically and dangerously. The distractions of her private life would blind her to its implications for her state.
The year 1492 had opened a new era for Italy, as well as for the Western world. In April Lorenzo de' Medici died and was mourned almost universally. Eulogized as "Italy's peacekeeper," Lorenzo the Magnificent was recognized as one of the greatest figures of the Renaissance. Caterina wrote letters of condolence and sincerely grieved for the passing of a man she had admired since she was a child. Yet it seemed that Lorenzo passed little of his "magnificence" on to his heirs. Lorenzo's son, twenty-one-year-old Piero, known as "the Unlucky," was no substitute for his father. Lorenzo had excelled through his bravery, brilliance, and benevolence; Piero embodied mediocrity. He favored recreation over statecraft and preferred hauteur to humility. The golden age of the Medicis was over. Piero's arrogance as well as his lack of interest in affairs of state soon led to widespread discontent among the Florentines. Moreover, the prominent scions of the cadet branch of the family, Giovanni and Lorenzo di Pierfrancesco de' Medici, who had always resented their status as the "lesser Medicis"—less honored, less wealthy, and less powerful—embarked on a subversive campaign to discredit Piero. Florence, once a bastion of stability in Renaissance politics, was developing fissures in its very foundations.
Caterina was focused so intently on her corner of Romagna that she was slow to appreciate the transformative events taking place in Europe. For Spain, 1492 had been a year of triumph. After over a decade of war, the sovereigns Ferdinand and Isabella had retaken Granada, the last Moorish stronghold on the Iberian Peninsula, which had been in Muslim hands for 250 years. The newfound strength of victorious Spain introduced an important new player in the European balance of power. In the same year Pope Innocent VIII Cybo died, which brought a sigh of relief for Caterina, as Innocent had been hostile to the Riario family even as a cardinal. His successor, the Spanish cardinal Roderigo Borgia, was close to Isabella and Ferdinand and seemed, at first, like a godsend to the Riario family. Cardinal Borgia had stood as godfather to Ottaviano and had received Caterina's ambassadors warmly, promising to be like a "father to Ottaviano" while offering assurance that Caterina could "count on him for anything." There was every reason to hope for great things for Forlì during the pontificate of Alexander VI Borgia. Amid the jubilation for a freed Spain and a new pontiff, one momentous undertaking of 1492 passed relatively unnoticed. Isabella and Ferdinand outfitted a small group of ships to search for a safer trade route to the Indies, entrusting them to one Christopher Columbus from Genoa.
In France, 1492 saw twenty-two-year-old King Charles VIII take command of his throne from his sister, Anne of Beaujeu, who had been serving as regent. Described by the Italians as "hunchbacked and hideously ugly," King Charles was rumored to be barely literate, but he had been raised on tales of war and glory. Any lingering hostilities from the Hundred Years' War finally evaporated in November 1492, when Charles VIII and Henry VII Tudor of England signed the Treaty of Étaples, concluding an extended conflict between the two nations. Furthermore, Charles's marriage to Anne of Brittany had united the entire territory of France under one ruler. Like Spain, France was a unified, powerful country in 1492, ready to flex its muscles. With veteran troops at his command, Charles dreamed of an opportunity to show his strength. He cast his gaze across the Alps toward Italy.
Caterina's uncle Ludovico the Moor proved to be the catalyst for the unhappy encroachment of foreign armies on Italian soil. Ludovico, still only the power behind the throne, had long looked to consolidate his authority. In 1489 Caterina's brother Gian Galeazzo Sforza, now twenty years old and the rightful duke of Milan, had married Isabella of Aragon, the daughter of Alfonso, duke of Calabria, and the granddaughter of King Ferrante of Naples. After years of subjugation to his mother, Bona of Savoy, and then Ludovico the Moor, Gian Galeazzo seemed content to leave governing to his uncle and devoted himself instead to hunting, fishing, and other pleasant pastimes. His new bride was not of the same mind. Raised at one of the most powerful and ruthless courts of Italy, Isabella had no intention of taking second place to a usurper. When Ludovico married Beatrice d'Este two years later, sparks began to fly in earnest. Although the two weddings were social and political events of great importance in northern Italy, Caterina attended neither. As a dutiful niece and sister, she sent huge delegations bearing lavish gifts, but in 1489 she was still weathering the aftermath of Girolamo's murder. In 1491, however, she was probably too attached to Feo to be parted from him. That year a third wedding cemented the series of alliances that would ultimately affect Caterina's realm. The heir to the Duchy of Ferrara, Alfonso d'Este, on January 30, 1491, wed Caterina's sister Anna Sforza, reinforcing the bond between Ferrara and Milan.
Isabella had borne a son, Francesco, to Gian Galeazzo, the heir to the throne of Milan. Although her husband was of an age to rule and they had produced a legitimate heir, Isabella nonetheless was relegated to living in Beatrice's shadow. Leonardo da Vinci arranged pageants and decorations in Beatrice's honor, not Isabella's. In 1492 Beatrice traveled to Venice in the glamorous role of ducal ambassador, while the true duchess was confined to the park at Pavia as keeper of a witless husband. It was too much for the pride of the Aragon family. Isabella wrote repeatedly to her father, Duke Alfonso of Calabria, complaining about these insults and referring to herself as "the most unhappily married woman in the world." Outraged, the hot-tempered Alfonso wanted to attack Milan immediately, but his father, King Ferrante of Naples, wiser and more politically astute, counseled patience, warning that if Milan called France to its aid, everyone would lose.
In January 1494, events came to a head. King Ferrante of Naples died, succeeded by his son Alfonso II, Isabella's father, who immediately took a threatening stance toward Milan. The Neapolitan monarchy had strong ties to Spain and Alfonso knew he could request support from Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand if he should need it.
Naples was separated from Milan by three hundred miles and three city-states. As a Spaniard, Pope Alexander was sympathetic to Alfonso and would allow the Neapolitan army passage through papal territory to Tuscany. Had Piero de' Medici maintained his father's alliance with Milan, Duke Alfonso's soldiers would have been halted on those borders. Because of his agreement with the duke of Milan, Lorenzo the Magnificent would never have countenanced a Neapolitan army passing through his lands, and without safe conduct through Florence, the Neapolitan troops would have to fight half the way to Milan. But Lorenzo's craven scion foolishly decided to throw his lot in with Naples, giving the troops access almost to the gates of Milan. The last stretch of land they would need to cover would be Romagna, including Forlì.
Ludovico, now very worried, sought help from beyond the Alps, inviting King Charles VIII into Italy. Milanese agents pressed the French court, reminding Charles that he had an ancient claim to Naples through his grandmother, Marie of Anjou. Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere joined the court as papal legate to France, bearing another reason for Charles to descend into Italy. By this time the criminal excesses of Pope Alexander, especially in favor of his son Cesare Borgia, were crying out for someone to depose the unfit pontiff. The French king was convinced, and he traveled over the Alps and entered Asti in September 1494.
"The snake has its tail in Italy," warned a Florentine ambassador, "and the Italians are pulling it with all their might." Charles VIII was feted in Milan but also made a short trip to Pavia to visit Gian Galeazzo. There, Isabella of Aragon threw herself at the French king's feet, imploring Charles to reconsider the attack on her family, but to no avail. Charles continued his advance. By the time the king reached Piacenza, he learned that Gian Galeazzo had succumbed to a stomach ailment and died. A rumor that the death was caused by poisoning tore through Italy and suspicion fell on Ludovico the Moor. This story gained momentum when Caterina's uncle arrested Isabella and separated the infant Francesco from his mother. Scandals aside, Ludovico succeeded in obtaining what he had long desired: he was proclaimed duke of Milan within the year. Caterina knew enough to conceal any distress she felt about the circumstances of her brother's death.
In 1494, Caterina found herself in an unenviable position. The crossing point for the northern- and southern-bound armies would be Romagna. Forlì was still, technically, under papal control; Caterina's authority as regent stemmed from papal decree, and therefore Caterina was legally bound and loyal to the pope. A Neapolitan ambassador had promptly arrived in Forlì to inform her that the pope was supporting the king of Naples. At the same time, letters poured in from Milan, reminding Caterina of her great debt to Milan and to her own family, who had returned her state to her. In the first weeks of the negotiations, Caterina and Feo, who was privy to every aspect of Caterina's governance, together with Giovanni Bentivoglio of Bologna, tried to maintain a neutral stance to avoid being crushed between these two colliding titans.
Troops were gathering in Bologna for the assault, bringing with them sophisticated artillery. Archers and cavalry cantered down the Via Emilia toward Cesena, neighbor to Forlì, to await the arrival of the king. They were remarkably well behaved—some farmers compared their passage to that of a group of friars—and much to the relief of the terrified denizens of Romagna, they left women, fields, and homes in peace. Charles VIII had brought a new weapon to the field, never before seen in feudal Europe: a standing army. Almost twenty thousand men, in the ranks of infantry, artillery, and cavalry, were perpetually on call and ready for battle; in the past, soldiers were levied from farms or fiefs as the occasion demanded. The expense of maintaining so many men in a foreign country was overwhelming. Charles needed to come, see, and conquer with lightning speed.
Distressed by Caterina's reluctance to assist Naples, Pope Alexander dispatched Cardinal Raffaello Riario to persuade her. Cardinal Riario arrived in Forlimpopoli, where he met a resolutely neutral countess. To his surprise and displeasure, all of his meetings with Caterina took place under the intrusive gaze of Giacomo Feo, who distrusted all of Caterina's family, whether Riario or Sforza. The former stable boy now advised Caterina on all matters of state and in mid-September Giacomo became general in chief and vice lord of her dominions. Caterina had fallen under the shadow of her new husband. On the stormy sea of Italian politics, it was Giacomo Feo who was now navigating amid kings, dukes, and diplomats. He closed the town's gates, allowing no military contingent, not even close friends of the Sforza family, to enter its walls. Requests to house Sforza soldiers were first ignored and eventually refused. Even Caterina would not intervene against Feo's dictums. By now, Feo controlled the fortress of Ravaldino through his uncle the castellan; he also handled all the city revenues. He paid the soldiers and therefore had their loyalty.
Feo's motivation for barring the city gates probably had more to do with self-preservation than international diplomacy. Mingled among the warring armies were several influential people who longed for his demise. Reports from both the ducal court of Milan and the papal court in Rome identified Feo as the biggest impediment to diplomatic relations with Caterina. In a fracas among soldiers, it would be easy to claim that Giacomo had fallen as a casualty of war. Instead of the velvet and brocade finery he usually donned, nowadays Feo prudently wore a metal breastplate both day and night. But Caterina and Feo also demonstrated sincere concern for their citizens. Edicts streamed out of Ravaldino, ordering farmers who lived in the countryside to move within the city walls for protection from the ever more numerous Neapolitan and French soldiers converging on their lands. The couple also saw to reinforcing the fortresses of Imola, Tossignano, and Bubano with toughened veterans.
The two warring states intensified their courtship of Caterina's Forlì. Economic concerns played no small part. Caterina had lamented long and often to Ludovico that her lands suffered from her lack of income. Bologna was loyal to Milan and its readiness to send soldiers and welcome troops was repaid with a yearly stipend, or condotta. Feo and Caterina also insisted on compensation for their fealty. Alexander VI, who owed his papacy to a series of well-placed bribes, understood the pathway to Forlì's loyalty. He issued a sixteen-thousand-ducat condotta to Caterina in return for support against Milan and the French. As an added bonus, the fief of San Mauro, which had been occupied by the Zampeschi family since 1484, was finally returned to the Riario dominions. Under Feo's influence, Caterina chose the condotta over kin and sided with Naples.
The conditions of Caterina's alliance included the promise that Naples would provide men and weapons to protect her territories from the inevitable French reprisals. Forlì kept its side of the bargain, remaining loyal to its new ally, much to the consternation of Ludovico of Milan. Caterina also kept her allies abreast of the movement of the enemy troops, sending out scouts and spies to report on French activities. The night of September 4, she even ordered the bakers of Forlì to stay up all night and prepare bread to feed the Neapolitan soldiers.1 Of course, this being Italy, her alliance with Naples didn't impede her from attempting to obtain a condotta for her son Ottaviano from the French army of Charles VIII.
On October 20, two thousand French and Milanese soldiers approached the gate of Caterina's fortress of Mordano near Imola, calling to the castellan to surrender. Caterina's handpicked guardian staunchly refused, declaring his loyalty to Ottaviano even as the sun glinted off the latest high-powered cannons trained on the castle walls. The captain of the Milanese troops tried to convince him that it would be better for the town to surrender now, to his fellow Italians, than to wait for the French, because they "are mad dogs and will put everyone to the sword." Caterina's soldiers responded in a single voice: "Bring your French! You'll find us ready for them! We are ready to die for the countess and Ottaviano!"2
And the French did come. The defense of Mordano did Caterina proud. Although no aid was forthcoming from Caterina's allies, the two hundred defenders held out from 9 A.M. until the late afternoon. When the cannons ripped away the castle walls, the guards stepped into the breaches and fought hand to hand. Attempts to scale the wall were valiantly resisted and the wounded refused treatment so as to remain in the front lines. The heroic band of men fought until a cannonball broke the drawbridge chain and the French were able to swarm the castle and village. They razed every structure there, leaving only the city hall. The surviving soldiers were drawn and quartered. The more fortunate citizens ran into the arms of the Milanese soldiers in surrender, hoping to be spared and detained in prison camps. The women of the city hid in the church, but the French soldiers entered and carried them away. Cobelli refused to discuss what happened to them afterward, so as not to "further dishonor them."3
The savagery of the French at Mordano jolted Caterina from her stupor. The moment the alert arrived that it was under siege she wrote to her ally the duke of Calabria, asking him for support. He didn't respond. Caterina summoned her subjects and explained that after the useless alliances with Naples, Florence, and the papacy, which were meant to ensure the protection of her lands and people, she would put the city under the wing of Ludovico and the French. The Neapolitans and Florentines had broken the most important stipulation of their treaty, to help protect tiny Forlì against the enormous French army. "There was no reason to treat me this way," wrote Caterina to Piero de' Medici five days after the sack of Mordano. "I have kept [our treaty] and done more than I was obliged to."4 Florence realized immediately the danger of Caterina's defection; now the French troops would have a foot on their doorstep. The Florentine ambassador Bernardo Bibbiena tried to persuade Piero de' Medici to mollify Caterina, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Caterina personally notified the duke of Calabria of her change of heart and soon she was welcomed into the bosom of the Milanese league.
Caterina's change of allegiance turned the tide of battle. The duke of Calabria started to beat a hasty retreat down the peninsula, with Charles's army in hot pursuit. The French king, however, tarried awhile in Tuscany, laying waste to the border towns. Piero the Unlucky, hoping to find the easiest remedy for his mistaken alliance, met with the French king and offered a partial surrender: the king would be given the seaport Pisa and several fortresses, but the city of Florence would remain untouched. Piero returned on November 8, proud of his handiwork, but after hearing of the gallant defense of Mordano, the Florentines were ashamed to have capitulated so easily. Combined with the rancor sown by the Medici brothers Giovanni and Lorenzo di Pierfrancesco, the cowardly submission of the Florentine leader moved the city council to issue a decree of banishment the next day. Piero and his brother Giovanni (the future Pope Leo X) were driven from the city.
Charles VIII obtained Tuscany without a fight and with his lance symbolically lowered he rode through Florence on his way to Naples. On November 23, Forlì and Imola saw the last of the French troops disappear along the Via Emilia. The enormous expedition worked its way down the Italian peninsula with little or no resistance. At Naples, the Battle of Fornovo culminated in Charles's coronation as king of Naples, but the empty title was overturned the moment Charles turned to head north again. Caterina, like most Italians, thought that the arrival of Charles had been an unfortunate hiccup in the history of Italian politics. But opening the door to the French would have dangerous consequences. France could lay sovereign claim to practically every state in Italy. The "eldest daughter of the church," France had been a Christian nation since the reign of King Clovis in the fifth century. After a millennium of marriages and alliances, most ruling families were tinged with a little French blood. France had enjoyed this taste of Italy and soon would be back for more.
By the time King Charles left, it was clear to every state on the Italian peninsula that Caterina's involvement with Giacomo Feo made her a liability. Concluding that she was a puppet in the hands of Feo, who was tied to no political interest but his own, the Florentines, the papacy, and the Milanesi believed that Caterina was becoming a threat to political stability as well as to her own children. The Florentine ambassador Puccio Pucci issued a dire warning that would prove prescient: "The countess will bury her children, her allies, and all her belongings, she will sell her soul to the devil, she will give her state to the Turk, before she gives up Giacomo Feo!"5
The only way out of this situation, the prophetic Florentine foresaw, was through death. Ottaviano was coming of age. Feo would have to have Girolamo's heir murdered before he could claim the rule of Imola and Forlì, or Ottaviano would have to kill Feo to claim his birthright.
In 1495 Ottaviano turned sixteen, finally old enough take over his dominions. Forlì and Imola crackled with tension. Who would win this undeclared tug-of-war? How would Caterina choose between her son and her lover? Antonio Ordelaffi, quick to smell a weakness, tried to take advantage of the situation by inciting the Orcioli and Marcobelli families to revolt, but the plot was crushed before it could hatch. Once again Feo shut down the city of Forlì. No one was allowed in or out without his approval.
The first eruption of open hostility came during an argument between Giacomo and Ottaviano. The teenage boy, furious at the smug Giacomo, usurper of his mother and his lands, gave vent to a tirade. Giacomo halted his venomous accusations with a resounding slap. Caterina sat by silently, torn between her lover and her son.
Shocked, Caterina's own retainers decided to take matters into their own hands. Giovanni Antonio Ghetti, who had helped liberate Ravaldino from Tommaso Feo so that Giacomo could take his place, took the lead in this plot. His wife, Rosa, was Caterina's favorite lady in waiting, and together this couple knew, more than anyone else, how far Caterina had regressed under the influence of Giacomo. They hardly recognized her as the confident woman they had once admired. Ghetti's relative Domenico joined in, along with two priests, one being the unscrupulous Antonio Pavagliotta, who needed money to support his mistress and three children. The other cleric, Domenico da Bagnacavallo, was looking to curry a little favor with the powerful Cardinal Riario, who certainly would not object to the deed the plotters planned to carry out. They rounded out the crew with one of Ghetti's servants, who was particularly skilled with a knife.
On August 27, 1495, Caterina and Giacomo had gone for a picnic in the woods outside Forlì, along with her oldest children, Ottaviano, Cesare, and Bianca. In a rare moment of domestic peace, the whole group was singing merrily together in celebration of a successful day's hunt. Cheeks flushed from the activities, eyelids heavy from the abundant lunch, the family traveled in a pleasant little cavalcade along the road. Caterina sat in a carriage with Bianca, surrounded by brightly clad servants carrying the spoils of the chase, while Giacomo, Cesare, and Ottaviano, on horseback, brought up the rear, together with the usual bodyguards.
They crossed the bridge by the Schiavonia gate of Forlì. As Caterina's cart passed through the gate, Ghetti and his followers stepped out of their hiding places, cutting Giacomo off from the rest of the group. "What brings you here, Gian Antonio?" asked Feo in good humor. "Are you well?"
Ghetti's accomplices casually took the reins of Feo's horse and held them fast. "I'm quite well," responded Ghetti, smiling as his servant came up behind Giacomo and stabbed him in the back.
Feo fell from his horse, into the arms of his killers, able to gasp only "Oh God! Oh my lady! I am dead!"6 before falling to the ground amid a hail of blows.
Caterina's Sforza reflexes responded instantly. In a flash, she leapt out of the carriage and onto the nearest horse and galloped to the safety of Ravaldino. Ottaviano and Cesare had already raced to the house of Paolo Denti, a local nobleman, while Feo's own bodyguards had scattered at the first sign of trouble. Glancing over her shoulder, Caterina searched through her tears for a glimpse of her beloved. The horrific vision of Feo's mangled body falling lifeless into a ditch was burned into her mind.