The Tigress of Forli (12 page)

The new rulers paused at the house of a local landowner, Marino degli Orcioli, to determine, in counsel with the count's astrologers, the most propitious hour of arrival. During the wait, however, a fire broke out in the palace destined to be home to the new count and countess—an inauspicious omen. A local friar, who sympathized with the Ordelaffi brothers, attempted to stir up sentiment against the Riarios by declaring that "the Ordelaffis had entered the city with a mighty wind; now the new lord was entering with fire." To the more superstitious of the Forlivesi, wind was associated with the Holy Spirit, and fire with Hell.

Those grim portents were dispelled, however, by the well-planned first appearance of the Riarios. At sunset, the party rode past Ravaldino to enter the Porta Cotogni. One of Forlì's largest gates and the site of the principal customs office, the Porta Cotogni opened onto the main thoroughfare of the town, the Strada Petrosa (the paved street). The arrival of the Riarios was the grandest procession in the history of Forlì. Nobles carrying banners and lances marched at the head, as brass horns announced their passage through the narrow streets. Clergymen decked in richly embroidered liturgical robes walked in stately order; their white-gloved hands bore jeweled reliquaries, and one held high a golden crucifix that glinted in the last rays of sunlight. Acolytes waved palm fronds, as had the people of Jerusalem upon Jesus' triumphant entry on what came to be celebrated as Palm Sunday. Myriad pennants proudly proclaimed the artisan trades, and the leading citizen of each of the four neighborhoods of Forlì marched in the throng.

Caterina, Girolamo, and their children were resplendent in multicolored silks. The count's soldiers wore silver cloaks over their armor, while the knights of his escort were dressed in gold brocade. The people of Forlì crowded the alleys and climbed onto balconies to catch a glimpse of the splendid retinue, which included members of the ancient noble Roman houses of Orsini, Colonna, and Savelli. Decked head to toe in fine pearls, rare jewels, and sumptuous fabrics, the rainbow of courtiers looked more than worthy of their renowned heritage.

The aristocratic assemblage rode under a triumphal arch—similar to those still visible among the ruins of the Roman Forum—and entered the main square of Forlì, where the count and countess would reside. Here they encountered a group of actors masquerading as the great citizens of old, striking dignified poses on a victory chariot: the legendary founder of the town, Claudius Livy; the celebrated Roman playwright Titus Maccius Plautus; and the town's first bishop, Saint Mercuriale, joined other native heroes in welcoming Girolamo into their midst, with odes and hymns. Guido Peppo, the local classicist and philosopher reputed as being "well-versed in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew," acted as keynote speaker, delivering an elegant laudatory oration.
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The party rode up the few steps to their new palace. Although five months pregnant, Caterina dismounted gracefully and watched serenely as the young men who had gathered to see the famous beauty scuffled over the privilege of taking the bridle and leading her horse away. Several gentlemen of Forlì stepped forward for the honor of carrying the countess up the stairs to her new palace. Unlike Girolamo, who was nervous when crowds pressed in on him, Caterina touched the outstretched hands and appeared delighted by the attention. She smilingly promised the gentlemen who had taken charge of her horse that if it was returned to her well tended, she would give them the jeweled overdress she was wearing—a promise that she duly kept.

Upstairs in the reception room of the palace, the people of Forlì were awed by the array of silver and other wares arranged in large open cabinets. For eight days the townspeople had watched mules and carts delivering huge trunks and crates to the house, as the residence was prepared for the arrival of the new lords. When at last they were allowed to see the treasures of the pope's nephew, the display did not disappoint. Finely wrought silver ewers and plates and gold vases were stacked on shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. A major purpose of this display, worth some hundred thousand ducats, was to reassure the people of Forlì that the Riarios would not need to squeeze their land for revenue, but indeed would bring riches to this little town of artisans and farmers. Every day the objects on the shelves were changed so that the people could admire the seemingly endless resources of Count Girolamo. Even Antonio Appiani, the sophisticated and well-traveled ambassador to the duke of Milan, conceded that the count "had made an astounding display." Appiani was particularly impressed by Caterina, writing that although "she had had two children and was pregnant with her third," she looked "beautiful and lively and was well-furnished with jewels."
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In provincial Forlì, men, women, and children jostled for a glimpse of the famous young countess who dazzled the Forlivesi with the latest fashions. Every detail of her dress was noted by the town's noblewomen, who would soon be striving to achieve the same look. On the evening of the welcoming banquet, she wore a turban that framed her radiant youthful face. Trailing from the headdress was a long veil of woven silver threads embroidered with pearls. The border featured a pattern of a rising sun, with rays penetrating a cloud underscored by her personal motto,
DIVERSORUM OPERUM,
"manifold works." As with the finest couture, her unique robe was months in the making. During her four weeks in Forlì, locals noted that she never wore the same dress twice. Her wardrobe and gems served their purpose: the people of Forlì were enchanted by their new countess.

Flame-colored silks draped the banqueting hall where Girolamo accepted more homages of poetry by the town's literati. Caterina and Girolamo then greeted the farmers from the countryside, who presented them with gifts of livestock and chickens, beeswax, wheat, and jams as well as fruit from the local orchards.

At the height of this display of affection and jubilation, Girolamo rose to address his new subjects. "People of Forlì," he began, "I promise that I will be a good son of this city and father to the people." He then went on to confirm the promise he had made to the delegation in Rome. The
dazi,
the taxes levied on entering the city and on purchasing grain for personal use, would be removed. Girolamo solemnly vowed that he would "maintain that promise in perpetuity," stating that "neither I nor my children shall repeal it or even remember it."
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This munificent but shortsighted policy met with wild applause and cheering but was in fact a time bomb. On that evening, July 15, 1481, Girolamo still enjoyed his position as the pope's favorite nephew, who could dip his hands into the papal coffers as often as he liked. This largesse, however, would last only as long as his uncle lived.

No concerns about an uncertain future were evident as the noble company danced and dined. To one local diarist, it seemed like the beginning of a golden age. Leone Cobelli, born and raised in Forlì, was a dancer, teacher, musician, and painter, and he was enthralled by Caterina from the moment he first laid eyes on her. Cobelli was playing the
baldosa,
an instrument similar to a guitar but with thirty copper strings, for the gala. In the musicians' gallery, the scent of Caterina's perfume wafted over him as she danced and her fair skin and hair glowed golden in the torchlight. That night he wrote his first lines describing Caterina and "the most beautiful dance I have ever seen or think I ever will."
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Not of a station that made him eligible as a confidant of the aristocratic countess, Cobelli would vent his passionate interest in Caterina by studying every aspect of her life during her years in Forlì. Beginning on that magical evening, Cobelli appointed himself as Caterina's personal historian. (Mostly he would watch her from afar; his one substantial personal encounter with her proved unpleasant.) His
Chronicles of Forlì
remains one of the most interesting sources for the stories, scandals, and fashions of Caterina's time in Forlì.

The next morning, Caterina appeared at Girolamo's side on the palace balcony, and together they tossed coins into the crowd below. They then took their seats to watch a spectacle created specifically in their honor. A large wooden castle resembling a fortified town had been constructed in the center of the main piazza. Forty young nobles and a priest took their places within the four towers, representing the citizens of Otranto on the Adriatic coast of southern Italy, defenders of their land. On August 2, 1480, Otranto had been captured by the Ottoman Turkish fleet of Sultan Mehmed II. The attack was sudden and unexpected, and many feared that "if God had not intervened, we would have been in their hands in short order."
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This event had so shocked Italy that it put an end to the war between the Florentines and the pope, who united to face a common enemy. Although the sultan had died two months earlier, in May, which caused rejoicing throughout Italy, Otranto still remained in the hands of the invaders. Fear of the Turks forged a bond among the people of the Italian peninsula. Thus, the re-creation of the Otranto siege held vital meaning.

Two hundred young men posed as the attackers, eagerly storming the castle to win the prize of five yards of precious velvet and four gold ducats. After a violent struggle lasting about an hour and a half, during which many people were wounded, a certain Francesco da Caravaggio claimed his reward as the first to enter the fortress, but at the cost of his eye. The afternoon ended with a joust between the Roman nobles Paolo Orsini and Giovanni Colonna, with the new governor, Il Tolentino, joining in. Although the riding was superb and the arms and weapons of the latest models, the crowds were disappointed that no winner was declared. Yet they soon forgot their displeasure as music began for a dance and food appeared for a feast.

The couple remained for a month of festivities in Forlì, but while the countess, heavily pregnant during the hot summer months, made the effort to visit and socialize with her new people, Girolamo closed himself up in his apartments.
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Despite the smiles the two evinced in public, the first signs of a rift between Caterina and her diffident husband began to show during this sojourn. Caterina actively engaged the citizens, unafraid to walk among her subjects; Girolamo, always wary of strangers, shied away from social situations. Even in mid-August, when they moved on to Imola, Girolamo kept to his rooms after attending the initial banquets and festivities. Yet after ten years of his rule, the Imolesi had every reason to love the count. Although he had barely visited the town, Girolamo had made numerous improvements. Inspired by his uncle's precedent in Rome (and subsidized by the papal purse), Count Riario strove to foster goodwill among his new subjects. The city wherein the Milanese orator Gian Luigi Bossi had disdainfully taken note of small houses and unpaved streets was now a jewel in the crown of Romagna. Girolamo had lured the builder Giorgio Fiorentino from Tuscany to construct houses in the style of the Medici family's properties, with expensive rusticated stone bases and elegantly arched windows. High arcades of loggias spanned façades throughout the town, sheltering the people of Imola from the elements and lending a lofty mien to the city squares. Over the course of four years, paved roads had replaced muddy streets.

Nonetheless, Girolamo was never to be seen. Soon enough the Imolesi were murmuring. What was the new count afraid of? Was he ill? What was wrong with him? Appiani suspected that Girolamo was too weak to govern the two cities. The insightful ambassador rightly guessed that the count was afraid of assassins, particularly in Forlì. When in Romagna, he preferred to remain in Imola, since unlike the Forlivesi, the Imolesi were not prone to violent action and confined their rebellions to lively chatter over a bottle of Sangiovese wine.
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Girolamo's distrust apparently extended to Caterina as well. Ludovico the Moor, the acting duke of Milan while he served as regent for Caterina's brother, extended an invitation to Caterina through his ambassador, Antonio Appiani, to come to Milan and visit her family for a month. The countess told Appiani that she yearned to visit Milan, but when she had mentioned the possibility to her husband he had brusquely denied her request, and "not without anger," as she put it. When Appiani suggested that he might speak to Girolamo himself on behalf of the duke, the worried wife begged him not to, for fear that Girolamo would think that she had engineered his intervention, and it would all end in a messy fight.

Appiani, however, had his orders from the duke and sought an audience with the count, explaining that Caterina's family had not seen her in several years and would like to meet their nephews. Girolamo could not be moved. In his first response, a false one, he stated that he "wouldn't know how to live without her"; this was belied immediately when he mentioned his intention of leaving Caterina in Romagna when he returned to Rome. When Caterina heard that Girolamo intended to leave her behind, she made plans to go to Milan as soon as he departed. Nevertheless, Appiani was left with the distinct impression that the count would neither come to Milan nor allow Caterina to do so. It was not uncommon for Renaissance wives to travel to see their families even during pregnancy, and Milan was a relatively short journey on even terrain. But ever since Ludovico the Moor had been crafty enough to come between Bona of Savoy and Cicco Simonetta, Girolamo had good reason to worry that the duke would lure Caterina into serving the interests of Milan instead of those of Rome. For the time being, Caterina would have to remain in her home in Forlì.

Disappointed that peace with Florence had been achieved, Girolamo was already stirring up more trouble. No sooner had the pope declared the reconciliation with Florence than Girolamo had cast his eye on Faenza, the little town that stood between his two holdings in Romagna. The count schemed to close the gap between Forlì and Imola by taking control of that little Manfredi state. But to conquer the Manfredis, he would have to first weaken their powerful protectors, the Este family of Ferrara.