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 VITTORIA COLONNA. 
 
 BY 
 
 T. ADOLPHUS TROLLOPE. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 AMERICAN BOOK EXCHANGE, 
 
 55 Beekman Street. 
 
 1879. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2019 with funding from 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 https://archive.org/details/lifeofvittoriacoOOtrol 
 
5>3z? b 
 
 EDITOR’S PREFACE. 
 
 \ 
 
 -♦- 
 
 A life of Yittoria Colonna, the most 
 beautiful and most gifted woman of Italy, 
 will certainly not be out of place among 
 the biographies of our Household Library. 
 
 Yittoria Colonna belonged to one of the 
 great feudal families of Italy, and her life 
 affords an interesting picture of the soci¬ 
 ety of her times. She married one of the 
 greatest captains of the age, and her life 
 incidentally reveals to us the source of all 
 the woes of Italy. 
 
4 Editor's Pfreace. 
 
 She was the companion of popes and 
 princes, the friend of mighty men of genius 
 like Michael Angelo, and her life recalls 
 the most splendid period of Italian art. 
 
 She was herself a famous poetess, and 
 the highest peninsular courts felt them¬ 
 selves honored hy her presence. 
 
 “ Vittoria Colonna,” says her biogra¬ 
 pher, “ has survived in men’s memory as 
 a poetess. But she is far more interesting 
 to the historical student, who would ob¬ 
 tain a full understanding of that wonder¬ 
 ful sixteenth century, as a Protestant. 
 Her highly gifted and richly cultivated 
 intelligence, her great social position, and, 
 above all, her close intimacy with the emi¬ 
 nent men who strove to set on foot an 
 Italian reformation which should not be 
 
Editor's Preface. 5 
 
 incompatible with the Papacy, make the 
 illustration of her religious opinions a mat¬ 
 ter of no slight historical interest.” 
 
 The author of this biography is Mr. T. 
 Adolphus Trollope, brother of the novel¬ 
 ist, and son of the woman w r ho made her¬ 
 self famous by her abuse of the Americans. 
 It forms a part of his Decade of Italian 
 Women, in regard to which the London 
 Athenaeum says: “ This book breathes of 
 the very air of Italian life. . . . The fas¬ 
 cination is the greater that the author 
 seems unconscious of the subtle perfume 
 in which his page is steeped. The book 
 opens to the English reader curious pic¬ 
 tures of the life and manners of Italy in 
 the brilliant and troublous times of the 
 Middle Ages.” 
 
 1 * 
 
6 Editor's Preface . 
 
 A point of especial interest in this Life 
 of Yittoria Colonna, is, that it contains 
 translations of her finest poems. 
 
 We began our series with the life of 
 the most remarkable woman of France, 
 and, after having wandered long among 
 the imperial lords of creation, we are hap¬ 
 py to add a very pleasant life of the most 
 remarkable woman of Italy. 
 
 O. W. Wight. 
 
 July, 1859. 
 
VITTORIA COLOMA. 
 
 (1490—1547.) 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Changes in the Condition of Italy.—Dark Days.—Circum¬ 
 stances which led to the Invasion of the French.—State 
 of things in Naples.—Fall of the Arragonese Dynasty.— 
 Birth of Vittoria.—The Colonna.—Marino.—Vittoria’s 
 Betrothal.—The Duchess di Francavilla.—Literary Cul¬ 
 ture at Naples.—Education of Yittoriain Ischia 
 
 The signs of change, which were per¬ 
 plexing monarchs at the period of Vit¬ 
 toria Colonna’s entry on the scene, be¬ 
 longed simply to the material order of 
 things 5 and such broad outline of them, 
 as is necessary to give some idea of the 
 general position of Italy at that day, 
 may be drawn in few words. 
 
 Certain more important symptoms of 
 changes in the world of thought and 
 
8 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 speculation, did not rise to the surface 
 of society till a few years later, and 
 these will have to he spoken of in a 
 subsequent page. 
 
 When Galeazzo Maria Sforza, Duke 
 of Milan, was murdered in 1476, his son, 
 Gian Galeazzo, a minor, succeeded to 
 the dukedom. But his uncle Ludovico, 
 known in history as “Ludovico il 
 Moro,” under pretence of protecting his 
 nephew, usurped the whole power and 
 property of the crown, which he con¬ 
 tinued wrongfully to keep in his own 
 hands even after the majority of his 
 nephew. The latter, however, having 
 married a grand-daughter of Ferdinand 
 of Arragon, King of Naples, her father, 
 Alphonso, heir apparent of that crown, 
 became exceedingly discontented at the 
 state of tutelage in which his son-in-law 
 was thus held. And his remonstrances 
 and threats became so urgent, that 
 “ Black Ludovick ” perceived that he 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 9 
 
 should be unable to retain his usurped 
 position, unless he could find means of 
 disabling Ferdinand and his son Al- 
 phonso from exerting their strength 
 against him. With this view he per¬ 
 suaded Charles VIII. of France to un¬ 
 dertake with his aid the conquest of the 
 kingdom of Naples, to which the French 
 monarch asserted a claim, derived from 
 the house of Anjou, which had reigned 
 in Naples, till they were ousted by the 
 house of Arragon. This invitation,which 
 the Italian historians consider the first 
 fountain head of all their calamities, 
 was given in 1492. On the 23d of Au¬ 
 gust, 1494, Charles left France on his 
 march to Italy, and arrived in Rome on 
 the 31st of December of that year. 
 
 On the previous 25th of January, 
 Ferdinand, the old King of Naples, 
 died, and his son, Alphonso, succeeded 
 him. But the new monarch, who dur¬ 
 ing the latter years of his father’s life 
 
10 
 
 Vittoria Oolonna. 
 
 had wielded the whole power of the 
 kingdom, was so much hated by his 
 subjects, that on the news of the French 
 King’s approach they rose in rebellion, 
 and declared in favor of the invader. 
 Alphonso made no attempt to face the 
 storm, but forthwith abdicated in favor 
 of his son Ferdinand, fled to Sicily, 
 and u set about serving God,” as the 
 chroniclers phrase it, in a monastery, 
 where he died a few months later, on 
 the 19th of November, 1495. 
 
 S/ 
 
 Ferdinand II., his son, was not dis¬ 
 liked by the nation ; and Guicciardini 
 gives it as his opinion, that if the ab¬ 
 dication of his father in his favor had 
 been executed earlier, it might have 
 had the effect of saving the kingdom 
 from falling into the hands of the 
 French monarch. But it was now too 
 late. A large portion of it had already 
 declared itself in favor of the invaders. 
 Ferdinand found the contest hopeless 
 
Yittoria Colonna. 
 
 11 
 
 and early in 1495 retired to Ischia. 
 Charles entered Naples the 21st of 
 February, 1495, and the whole kingdom 
 hastened to accept him as its sovereign. 
 
 Meantime, however, Ludovico, Duke 
 of Milan, whose oppressed nephew had 
 died on the 22d of October, 1494, be¬ 
 gan to be alarmed at the too complete 
 success of his own policy, and entered 
 into a league with the Venetians, the 
 King of the Romans, and Ferdinand of 
 Castile, against Charles, who seems to 
 have immediately become as much 
 panic stricken at the news of it as Al- 
 phonso had been at his approach. The 
 French, moreover, both the monarch 
 and his followers, had lost no time in 
 making themselves so odious to the 
 Neapolitans, that the nation had already 
 repented of having abandoned Ferdi¬ 
 nand so readily, and were anxious to get 
 rid of the French and receive him back 
 again. Towards the end of May, 1495, 
 
12 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 Charles hastily left Naples on his return 
 to France, leaving Gilbert de Mont- 
 pensier as Viceroy ; and on the 7th of 
 July, Ferdinand returned to Naples and 
 was gladly welcomed by the people. 
 
 And now, having thus the good-will 
 of his subjects already disgusted with 
 their French rulers, Ferdinand might 
 in all probability have succeeded with¬ 
 out any foreign assistance in ridding his 
 country of the remaining French troops 
 left behind him by Charles, and in re¬ 
 establishing the dynasty of Arragon on 
 the throne of Naples, had he not at the 
 time when things* looked worst with 
 him, on the first coming of Charles, 
 committed the fatal error of asking as¬ 
 sistance from Ferdinand the Catholic, 
 of Castile. 
 
 Ferdinand the Catholic and the 
 crafty, did not wait to be asked a sec¬ 
 ond time ; but instantly despatched to 
 his aid, Consalvo Ernandez d’Aguilar. 
 
'Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 13 
 
 known thereafter in Neapolitan history 
 as, “ II gran Capitano,” both on account 
 of his rank as Generalissimo of the 
 Spanish forces, and of his high military 
 merit and success. Ferdinand of Ar- 
 ragon, with the help of Consalvo and 
 the troops he brought with him, soon 
 succeeded in driving the French out of 
 his kingdom; and appeared to be on 
 the eve of a more prosperous period, 
 when a sudden illness put an end to his 
 life in October, 1496. He died with¬ 
 out offspring, and was succeeded by 
 his uncle Frederick. 
 
 Thus, as the Neapolitan historians 
 remark, Naples had passed under the 
 sway of no less than five monarchs in 
 the space of three years: to wit— 
 
 Ferdinand of Arragon, the first, who 
 died the 25th of January, 1494. 
 
 Alphonso, his son, who abdicated on 
 the 3d of February, 1495. 
 
 Charles of France, crowned at ha- 
 2 
 
14 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 pies on the 20th of May, 1495, and 
 driven out of the kingdom immediately 
 afterwards. 
 
 Ferdinand of Arragon, II., son of 
 Alphonso, who entered Naples in tri¬ 
 umph on the 7th of July, 1495, and 
 died in October, 1496. 
 
 Frederick of Arragon, his uncle, who 
 succeeded him. 
 
 But these so rapid changes had not 
 exhausted the slides of Fortune’s magic 
 lantern. She had other harlequinade 
 transformations in hand, sufficient to 
 make even Naples tired of change and 
 desirous of repose. Frederick, the last, 
 and perhaps the best, and best-loved 
 of the Neapolitan sovereigns of the dy¬ 
 nasty of Arragon, resigned but to wit¬ 
 ness the final discomfiture and downfall 
 of his house. 
 
 Charles Till, died in April, 1498 ; 
 but his successor, Louis XII., was 
 equally anxious to possess himself of 
 
Vittoria Colonna, 
 
 15 
 
 the crown of Naples, and more able to 
 carry his views into effect. The prin¬ 
 cipal obstacle to his doing so was the 
 power of Ferdinand of Spain, and the 
 presence of the Spanish troops under 
 Consalvo of Naples. Ferdinand the 
 Catholic, could by no means permit the 
 spoliation of his kinsman and ally, 
 Frederick, who loyally relied on his 
 protection, for the profit of the King 
 of France. Louis knew that it was im¬ 
 possible he should do so. But the 
 Most Christian King thought that the 
 Most Catholic King might very prob¬ 
 ably find it consistent with kingly 
 honor to take a different view of the 
 case, if it were proposed to him to go 
 shares in the plunder. And the Most 
 Christian King’s estimate of royal na¬ 
 ture was so just, that the Most Catholic 
 Kins: acceded in the frankest manner 
 to his royal brother’s proposal. 
 
 Louis accordingly sent an army to 
 
16 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 invade Naples in the year 1500. The 
 unfortunate Frederick was beguiled the 
 while into thinking that his full trust 
 might he placed on the assistance of 
 Spain. But, when on the 25th of June, 
 1501, the Borgia Pope, Alexander VII., 
 published ahull graciously dividing his 
 dominions between the two eldest sons 
 of the Church, he perceived at once 
 that his position was hopeless. Besolv- 
 ing, however, not to abandon his king¬ 
 dom without making an attempt to 
 preserve it, he determined to defend 
 himself in Capua. That city was how¬ 
 ever taken by the French on the 24th 
 of July, 1501, and Frederick fled to 
 Ischia ; whence he subsequently retired 
 to France, and died at Tours on the 9th 
 of November, 1504. 
 
 Meanwhile, the royal accomplices 
 having duly shared their booty, in¬ 
 stantly began to quarrel, as thieves are 
 wont to do, over the division of it. Each 
 
'Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 n 
 
 in fact had from the first determined 
 eventually to possess himself of the 
 whole ; proving, that if indeed there be 
 honor among thieves, the proverb must 
 not be understood to apply to such as 
 are “ Most Christian,” and “ Most Cath¬ 
 olic.” 
 
 Naples thus became the battle-field, 
 as well as the prize of the contending 
 parties; and was torn to pieces in the 
 struggle w T hile waiting to see which in¬ 
 vader was to be her master. At length 
 the Spaniard proved the stronger, as he 
 was also the more iniquitous of the 
 two ; and on the 1st of January, 1504, 
 the French finally quitted the kingdom 
 of Naples, leaving it in the entire and 
 peaceful possession of Ferdinand of 
 Spain. Under him, and his successors on 
 the Spanish throne, the unhappy prov¬ 
 ince was governed by a series of vice¬ 
 roys, of whom, says Colletta 1 “one here 
 
 * Storia di Nap. lib. i. cap. 1. 
 
 . 2 * 
 
18 
 
 Vittorio. Colonna. 
 
 and there was good, many bad enough, 
 and several execrable,” for a period of 
 230 years, with results still visible. 
 
 Such was the scene on which our 
 heroine had to enter in the year 1490. 
 She was the daughter of Fabrizio, 
 brother of that protonotary Colonna, 
 whose miserable death at the hands of 
 the hereditary enemies of his family, 
 the Orsini, allied with the Riarii, then 
 in power for the nonce during the pope¬ 
 dom of Sixtus IV., has been related 
 in the life of Caterina Sforza. Her 
 mother was Agnes of Montefeltre ; and 
 all the biographers and historians tell 
 us, that she was the youngest of six 
 children born to her parents. The 
 statement is a curious instance of the 
 extreme and very easily detected inac¬ 
 curacy, which may often be found 
 handed on unchallenged from one gen¬ 
 eration to another of Italian writers of 
 biography and history. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 19 
 
 The Cavaliere Pietro Visconti, the 
 latest Italian, and by far the most com¬ 
 plete of Vittoria’s biographers, who 
 edited a handsome edition of her works 
 
 * 
 
 not published, but printed in 1840 at 
 the expense of the prince-banker, Tor- 
 lonia, on the occasion of his marriage 
 with the Princess Donna Teresa Co- 
 lonna, writes thus at page 55 of the life 
 prefixed to this votive volume :—“The 
 child (Vittoria) increased and complet¬ 
 ed the number of children whom Agnes 
 of Montefeltre, daughter of Frederick, 
 Duke of Urbino, had presented to her 
 husband.” He adds, in a note, “ this 
 Princess had already had five sons, 
 Frederick, Ascanio, Ferdinando, Ca- 
 millo, Sciarra.” 
 
 Coppi, in his u Memorie Colonnesi,” 
 makes no mention 1 of the last three, 
 —giving as the offspring of Fabrizio and 
 
 1 He speaks, indeed, (p. 236,) of Sciarra as a brother of 
 Ascanio • adding, that he was illegitimate. 
 
20 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 Agnes, only Frederick, Ascanio, and 
 Vittoria. Led by this discrepancy 
 to examine further the accuracy of 
 Visconti’s statement, I found that Agnes 
 di Montefeltre was born in 1472 ; and 
 was, consequently, eighteen years old 
 at the time of Vittoria’s birth. It be¬ 
 came clear, therefore, that it was ex¬ 
 ceedingly improbable, not to say im¬ 
 possible, thatshe should have had five 
 children previously. But I found far¬ 
 ther, that Frederick the eldest son, and 
 always hitherto said to have been the 
 eldest child of Agnes, died according 
 to the testimony of his tombstone, 1 
 still existing in the Church of Santa 
 Maria di Pallazzola, in the year 1516, 
 being then in his nineteenth year. He 
 was, therefore, born in 1497 or 1498, 
 and must have been seven or eight 
 years younger than Vittoria; who 
 must, it should seem, have been the 
 
 1 Coppi, Mem. Col. p. 269. 
 
Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 21 
 
 eldest and not the youngest of her pa¬ 
 rents’ children. 
 
 It can scarcely be necessary to tell 
 even the most exclusively English 
 reader, how ancient, how noble, how 
 magnificent, was the princely house of 
 Colonna. They were so noble, that 
 their lawless violence, freebooting hab¬ 
 its, private wars, and clan enmities, 
 rendered them a scourge to their 
 country ; and for several centuries con¬ 
 tributed largely to the mass of anarchy 
 and barbarism, that rendered Rome 
 one of the most insecure places of 
 abode in Europe, and still taints the 
 instincts of its popu^ce with charac¬ 
 teristics, which make it one of the least 
 civilizable races of Italy. The Orsini 
 being equally noble, and equally pow¬ 
 erful and lawless, the high-bred mastiffs 
 of either princely house for more than 
 200 years, with short respites ot ill-kept 
 truce, never lost an opportunity ot fly- 
 
22 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 ing at each other 8 throats, to the 
 infinite annoyance and injury of their 
 less noble and more peaceably disposed 
 fellow-citizens. 
 
 Though the possessions of the Colon- 
 na clan had before been wide-spread 
 and extensive, they received consider¬ 
 able additions during the Papacy of 
 the Colonna pope, Martin V., great 
 uncle of Fabrizio, Vittoria’s father, 
 who occupied the Papal chair from 
 1417 to 1431. At the period of our 
 heroine’s birth the family property 
 was immense. 
 
 Very many were the fiefs held by 
 the Colonna in the immediate neigh¬ 
 borhood of the* city, and especially 
 among the hills to the east and south¬ 
 east of the Campagna. There several 
 of the strongest positions, and most 
 delightfully situated towns and castles, 
 belonged to them. 
 
 Among the more important of these 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 23 
 
 was Marino, admirably placed among 
 the hills that surround the lovely lake 
 of Albano. 
 
 Few excursionists among the storied 
 sites in the environs of Rome make 
 Marino the object of a pilgrimage. 
 The town has a bad name in these 
 days. The Colonna vassals who in¬ 
 habit it, and still pay to the feudal lord 
 a tribute, recently ruled by the Roman 
 tribunals to be due (a suit having been 
 instituted by the inhabitants with a 
 view of shaking oif this old mark of 
 vassalage), are said to be eminent 
 among the inhabitants of the Cam- 
 pagna for violence, lawlessness, and dis¬ 
 honesty. The bitterest hatred, the leg¬ 
 acy of old wrong and oppression, is felt 
 by them against their feudal lords; and 
 this sentiment, which, inherited, as it 
 seems to be, from generation to gener¬ 
 ation, speaks but little in favor of the 
 old feudal rule, does not tend to make 
 
24 
 
 Vittorio, Oolonna. 
 
 the men of Marino good or safe sub¬ 
 jects. Many a stranger has, however, 
 probably looked down from the beauti¬ 
 fully wooded heights of Castel Gandolfo 
 on the picturesquely gloomy little wall¬ 
 ed town creeping up the steep side of 
 its hill, and crowned by the ancient 
 seignorial residence it so much detests. 
 And any one of these would be able to 
 assure a recent intensely French biog¬ 
 rapher of Yittoria, that he is in error 
 in supposing that the town and castle 
 of Marino have so entirely perished 
 and been forgotten, that the site of 
 th&m even is now unknown ! 1 
 
 On the contrary the old castle has 
 recently been repaired and modernized 
 into a very handsome nineteenth cen¬ 
 tury residence, to the no small injury 
 of its outward appearance in a pictu- 
 
 1 Which is the truly wonderful assertion of M. le Ferre 
 Deumier, in his little volume entitled “ Vittoria Colonna; ” 
 Paris, 1856, p. 7. 
 
Vittorio, Colonna . 
 
 25 
 
 resque and historical point of view. 
 The interior still contains unchanged 
 several of the nobly proportioned old 
 halls, which were planned at a time 
 when mighty revels in the rare times 
 of peace, and defence in the more nor¬ 
 mal condition of clan warfare, were 
 the object held in view by the builder. 
 Many memorials of interest, moreover, 
 pictures, and other records of the old 
 times were brought to Marino from 
 Pali an o, when the Colonna family 
 were in the time of the last Pope, 
 most unjustly compelled to sell the 
 latter possession to the Pom an govern¬ 
 ment. Paliano, which from its moun¬ 
 tain position is extremely strong and 
 easily defended, seemed to the govern¬ 
 ment of the Holy Father to be admira¬ 
 bly adapted to that prime want of a 
 Papal despotism, a prison for political 
 offenders. The Colonnas, therefore, 
 were invited to sell it to the state; and 
 
26 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna . 
 
 on their declining to do so, received 
 an intimation, that the paternal govern¬ 
 ment having determined on possessing 
 it, and having also fixed the price they 
 intended to give for it, no option in the 
 matter could be permitted them. So 
 Marino was enriched by all that was 
 transferable of the ancient memorials 
 that had gathered around the stronger 
 mountain fortress in the course of 
 centuries. 
 
 It was at Marino that Vittoria was 
 born, in a rare period of most unusual¬ 
 ly prolonged peace. Her parents had 
 selected, we are told, from among their 
 numerous castles, that beautiful spot, 
 for the enjoyment of the short inter¬ 
 val of tranquillity which smiled on 
 their first years 1 of marriage. A very 
 successful raid, in which Fabrizio and 
 
 1 As it would appear they must have been, from the 
 dates given abovo to show that Vittoria must have been 
 their first child. 
 
Vitt oria Colonna. 
 
 27 
 
 his cousin Prospero Colonna had har¬ 
 ried the fiefs of the Orsini, and driven 
 ofi* a great quantity of cattle, 1 had 
 been followed by a peace made under 
 the auspices of Innocent YIII. on the 
 11th August, 1486, which seems abso¬ 
 lutely to have lasted till 1494, when 
 we find the two cousins at open war 
 with the new Pope Alexander VI. 
 
 Par more important contests, how¬ 
 ever, were at hand, the progress of 
 which led to the youthful daughter of 
 the house being treated, while yet in 
 her fifth year, as part of the family 
 capital, to be made use of for the ad¬ 
 vancement of the family interests, and 
 thus fixed the destiny of her life. 
 
 When Charles VIII. passed through 
 Pome on his march against Naples at 
 the end of 1494, the Colonna cousins 
 sided with him; placed themselves 
 under his banners, and contributed 
 
 1 Coppl. Mem. Col., p. 228. 
 
28 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 materially to aid his successful invasion. 
 But on his flight from Naples in 1495, 
 they suddenly changed sides, and took 
 service under Ferdinand II. The fact 
 of this change of party, which to our 
 ideas seems to require so much expla¬ 
 nation, probably appeared to their con¬ 
 temporaries a perfectly simple matter ; 
 for it is mentioned as such without any 
 word of the motives or causes of it. 
 Perhaps they merely sought to sever 
 themselves from a losing game. Pos¬ 
 sibly, as we find them rewarded for 
 their adherence to the King of Naples 
 by the grant of a great number of hefs 
 previously possessed by the Orsini, who 
 were on the other side, they were in¬ 
 duced to change their allegiance by 
 the hope of obtaining those possessions, 
 and by the Colonna instinct of enmity 
 to the Orsini race. Ferdinand, how¬ 
 ever, was naturally anxious to have 
 some better hold over his new friends 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 29 
 
 than that furnished by their own oaths 
 of fealty ; and with this view caused 
 the infant Vittoria to be betrothed to 
 his subject, Ferdinand d’Avalos, son 
 of Alphonso, Marquis of Pescara, a 
 child of about the same age as the 
 little bride. 
 
 Little, as it must appear to our modern 
 notions, as the child’s future happiness 
 could have been cared for in the stipu¬ 
 lation of a contract entered into from 
 such motives, it so turned out, that noth¬ 
 ing could have more effectually se¬ 
 cured it. To Vittoria’s parents, if any 
 doubts on such a point had presented 
 themselves to their minds, it would 
 doubtless have appeared abundantly 
 sufficient to know, that the rank and 
 position of the affianced bridegroom 
 were such, as to secure their daughter 
 one of the highest places among the 
 nobility of the court of Naples, and the 
 enjoyment of vast and wide-spread pos- 
 3 * 
 
30 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 sessions. But to Vittoria herself all 
 this would not have been enough. And 
 the earliest and most important advan¬ 
 tage arising to her from her betrothal 
 was the bringing her under the influ¬ 
 ence of that training, which made her 
 such a woman, as could not find her 
 happiness in such matters. 
 
 We are told, that henceforth, that is, 
 after the betrothal, she was educated to¬ 
 gether with her future husband, in the 
 island of Ischia, under the care of the 
 widowed Duchessa di Francavilla, the 
 young Pescara’s elder sister. Costanza 
 d’Avalos, Duchessa di Francavilla, ap¬ 
 pears to have been one of the most re¬ 
 markable women of her time. When 
 her father Alphonso, Marchesa di Pes¬ 
 cara, lost his life by the treason of a 
 black slave on the 7th of September, 
 1495, leaving Ferdinand his son the 
 heir to his titles and estates, an infant 
 five years old, then quite recently be- 
 
Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 31 
 
 frothed to Vittoria, the Duchessa di 
 Francavilla assumed the entire direction 
 and governance of the family. So high 
 was her reputation for prudence, energy, 
 and trust-worthiness in every way, that 
 on the death of her husband, King Fer¬ 
 dinand made her governor and “ chate- 
 ' laine ” of Ischia, one of the most im¬ 
 portant keys ot the kingdom. Nor were 
 her gifts and qualities only such as 
 were calculated to fit her for holding 
 such a post. Her contemporary, Cate- 
 rina Sforza, would have made a “ chate¬ 
 laine ” as vigilant, as prudent, as brave 
 and energetic as Costanza. But the 
 Neapolitan lady was something more 
 than this. 
 
 Intellectual culture had been held in 
 honor at Naples during the entire pe¬ 
 riod of the Arragonese dynasty. All 
 the princes of that house, with the ex¬ 
 ception, perhaps, of Alphonso, the fa¬ 
 ther of Ferdinand II., had been lovers 
 
32 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 of literature and patrons of learning. 
 Of this Ferdinand II., under whose aus¬ 
 pices the young Pescara was betroth¬ 
 ed to Vittoria, and who chose the Du- 
 chessa di Franca villa as his governor 
 in Ischia, it is recorded, that when re¬ 
 turning in triumph to his kingdom after 
 the retreat of the French, he rode into 
 Naples with the Marchese de Pescara 
 on his right hand, and the poet Cariteo 
 on his left. Poets and their art espe¬ 
 cially were welcomed in that literary 
 court; and the tastes and habits of the 
 Neapolitan nobles were at that period 
 probably more tempered by those stud¬ 
 ies, which humanize the mind and man¬ 
 ners, than the chivalry of any other part 
 of Italy. 
 
 Among this cultured society Costanza 
 d’Avalos was eminent for culture, and 
 admirably qualified in every respect 
 to make an invaluable protectress and 
 friend to her youthful sister-in-law. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 83 
 
 The transplantation, indeed, of the in¬ 
 fant Colonna from her native feudal 
 castle to the Duchessa di Francavilla’s 
 home in Ischia, was a change so com¬ 
 plete and so favorable, that it may be 
 fairly supposed, that without it the 
 young Homan girl would not have 
 grown into the woman she did. 
 
 For in truth Marino, little calculated, 
 as it will be supposed, such a stronghold 
 of the ever turbulent Colonna was at 
 any time to afford the means and op¬ 
 portunity for intellectual culture, be¬ 
 came shortly after the period of Vitto- 
 ria’s betrothal to the heir of the D’Ava- 
 los, whollv unfit to offer her even a safe 
 home. Whether it continued to be the 
 residence of Agnes, while her husband 
 Fabrizio was fighting in Naples, and 
 her daughter was under the care of 
 the Duchessa di Francavilla in Ischia, 
 has not been recorded. But we find 
 that when Fabrizio had deserted the 
 
34 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 French king, and ranged himself on 
 the side of Ferdinand of Naples, he 
 was fully aware of the danger to which 
 his castles would he exposed at the 
 hands of the French troops as^ they 
 passed through Home on their way to 
 or from Naples. To provide against 
 this, he had essayed to place them in 
 safety by consigning them as a deposit 
 in trust to the Sacred College. 1 But 
 Pope Borgia, deeming, probably, that 
 he might find the means of possessing 
 himself of some of the estates in ques¬ 
 tion, refused to permit this, ordering 
 that they should, instead, be delivered 
 into his keeping. On this being re¬ 
 fused, he ordered Marino to be level¬ 
 led to the ground. And Guicciardini 
 writes, 2 that the Colonna, having 
 placed garrisons in Amelici and Boc- 
 ca di Papa, two other of the family 
 strongholds, abandoned all the rest of 
 
 1 Coppi. mem. Col., p. 248. 
 
 2 Book v. chap. li. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 35 
 
 the possessions in the Roman States. It 
 seems probable, therefore, that Agnes 
 accompanied her husband and daugh¬ 
 ter to Naples. Subsequently the same 
 historian relates, 1 that Marino was 
 burned by order of Clement YII in 
 1526. So that it must be supposed, 
 that the order of Alexander for its ut¬ 
 ter destruction in 1501 was not wholly 
 carried into execution. 
 
 The kingdom and city of Naples was 
 during this time by no means without 
 a large share of the turmoil and war¬ 
 fare that was vexing every part of 
 Italy. Yet whosoever had Ids lot cast 
 
 i/ 
 
 during those years elsewhere than in 
 Rome was in some degree fortunate. 
 And considering the general state of 
 the Peninsula, and her own social 
 position and connections, Yittoria may 
 be deemed very particularly so to have 
 found a safe retreat, and an admirably 
 
 1 Book xvii. chaps, iii. and iv. 
 
30 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 governed home on the rock of Ischia. 
 In after life we find her clinging to it 
 with tenacious affection, and dedi¬ 
 cating more than one sonnet to the re¬ 
 membrances which made it sacred to 
 her. And though in her widowhood 
 her memory naturally most frequently 
 recurs to the happy years of her mar¬ 
 ried life there, the remote little island 
 had at least a strong claim upon her 
 affections as the home of her child¬ 
 hood. For to the years there passed 
 under the care of her noble sister-in- 
 law, Costanza d’Avalos, she owed the 
 possibility, that the daughter of a Ho¬ 
 man chieftain who passed his life in 
 harrying others and being harried him¬ 
 self, and in acquiring as a “ condot- 
 tiere ” captain the reputation of one 
 of the first soldiers of his day, could 
 become either morally or intellectually 
 the woman Yittoria Colonna became. 
 
Vi ttor in Colonnn. 
 
 n 
 
 h 
 
 4 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Vittoria’s Personal Appearance.—First love.—A Noble Sol¬ 
 dier of Fortune.—Italian Wars of the Fifteenth and Six¬ 
 teenth Centuries.—The Colonna Fortunes.—Death of Fer¬ 
 dinand II.—The Neapolitans carry Coals to Newcastle.— 
 Events in Ischia.—Ferdinand of Spain in Naples.—Life in 
 Naples in the Sixteenth Century.—Marriage of Pescara 
 with Yittoria.—Marriage Presents. 
 
 From the time of her betrothal in 1495 
 to that of her marriage in 1509, history 
 altogether loses sight of Vittoria. We 
 must suppose her to be quietly and hap¬ 
 pily growing from infancy to adolescence 
 under the roof of Costanza d’ Aval os, 
 the chatelaine of Iscliia, sharing the 
 studies of her future husband and 
 
 present playmate, and increasing, a in 
 
 4 * 
 
38 
 
 'Vittoria Oolonna. 
 
 stature, so in every grace both of 
 mind and body. The young Pescara 
 seems also to have profited by the 
 golden opportunities offered him of be¬ 
 coming something better than a mere 
 jpreux chevalier. A taste for literature, 
 and especially for poesy, was then a 
 ruling fashion among the nobles of the 
 court of Naples. And the young Fer¬ 
 dinand, of whose personal beauty and 
 knightly accomplishments we hear 
 much, manifested also excellent qual¬ 
 ities of disposition and intelligence. 
 His biographer Giovio 1 tells us that his 
 beard was auburn, his nose aquiline, 
 his eyes large and fiery when excited, 
 but mild and gentle at other times. 
 He was, however, considered proud, 
 adds Bishop Giovio, on account of his 
 haughty carriage, the little familiarity 
 of his manners, and his grave and brief 
 fashion of speech. 
 
 1 Giovio, Vita del Mar. di Pescara, Venice, 1557, p. 14. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 39 
 
 To his playmate Vittoria, the com¬ 
 panion of his studies and hours of re¬ 
 creation, this sterner mood was doubt¬ 
 less modified; and with all the good 
 gifts attributed to him, it was natural 
 enough that before the time had come 
 for consummating the infant betrothal, 
 the union planned for political pur¬ 
 poses had changed itself into a verita¬ 
 ble love-match. The affection seems 
 to have been equal on either side; 
 and Vittoria, if we are to believe the 
 concurrent testimony of nearly all the 
 poets and literateurs of her day, must 
 have been beautiful and fascinating in 
 no ordinary degree. The most authen¬ 
 tic portrait 1 of her is one preserved in 
 the Colonna gallery at Home, supposed 
 to be a copy by Girolamo Muziano, 
 from an original picture by some artist 
 Df higher note. It is a beautiful face 
 of the true Homan type, perfectly 
 
 1 Visconti, Rimi di Vit. Col., p. 39. 
 
40 
 
 "Vittorio, Golonna. 
 
 regular, of exceeding purity of outline, 
 and perhaps a little heavy about the 
 lower part of the face. But the calm, 
 large, thoughtful eye, and the superbly 
 developed forehead, secure it from any 
 approach towards an expression of 
 sensualism. The fulness of the lip is 
 only sufficient to indicate that sensi¬ 
 tiveness to, and appreciation of beauty, 
 which constitutes an essential element 
 in the poetical temperament. The hair 
 is of that bright golden tint that Titian 
 loved so well to paint; and its beauty 
 has been especially recorded by more 
 than one of her contemporaries. The' 
 poet Galeazzo da Tarsia, who professed 
 himself, after the fashion of the time, 
 her most fervent admirer and devoted 
 slave, recurs in many passages of his 
 poems to those fascinating “ chiome 
 d’oro;” as here he sings, with more 
 enthusiasm than taste, of the 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 41 
 
 “ Trecce d’or, che in gli alti giri, 
 
 Non e che’ unqua pareggi o sole o stella; ” 
 
 or again where lie tells us, that the sun 
 and his lady-love appeared 
 
 “ Ambi con chiome d’or lucide e terse.” 
 
 But the testimony of graver writers, 
 lay and clerical, is not wanting to in¬ 
 duce us to believe, that Vittoria in her 
 . prime really might be considered “the 
 most beautiful woman of her day ” 
 with more truth than that hackneyed 
 phrase often conveys. So when at 
 length the Colonna seniors, and the 
 Duchessa di Francavilla thought, that 
 the fitting moment had arrived for 
 carrying into effect the long-standing 
 engagement—which was not till 1509, 
 when the ypromessi sposi were both 
 in their nineteenth year—the young 
 couple were thoroughly in love with 
 each other, and went to the altar with 
 every prospect of wedded happiness. 
 
 4* 
 
42 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 But during these quiet years of study 
 and development in little rock-bound 
 Ischia, the world without was any tiling 
 hut quiet, as the outline of Neapolitan 
 history in the last chapter sufficiently 
 indicates ; and Fabrizio Colonna was 
 ever in the thick of the confusion. As 
 long as the Aragonese mon arch s kept 
 up the struggle, he fought for them up¬ 
 on the losing side ; but when, after the • 
 retreat of Frederick, the last of them, 
 the contest was between the French 
 and the Spaniards, he chose the latter, 
 which proved to be the winning side. 
 Frederick, on abandoning Naples, 
 threw himself on the hospitality of the 
 King of France, an enemy much less 
 hated by him than was Ferdinand of 
 Spain, who had so shamefully de¬ 
 ceived and betrayed him. But his 
 high Constable, Fabrizio Colonna, not 
 sharing, as it should seem, his sover¬ 
 eign’s feelings on the subject, transfer- 
 
Victoria Colonna. 
 
 43 
 
 red liis allegiance to the King of Spain. 
 And again, this change of fealty and 
 service seems to have been considered 
 so much in the usual course of things, 
 that it elicits no remark from the con¬ 
 temporary writers. 
 
 In fact, the noble Fabrizio, the bearer 
 of a grand old Italian name, the lord 
 of many a powerful barony, and owner 
 of many a mile of fair domain, a Ro¬ 
 man patrician of pure Italian race, to 
 whom, if to any, the honor, the inde¬ 
 pendence, the interests, and the name 
 of Italy should have been dear, was a 
 mere Captain of free lances,—a sol¬ 
 dier of fortune, ready to sell his blood 
 and great military talents in the best 
 market. The best of his fellow nobles 
 in all parts of Italy were the same. 
 Their profession was fighting. And 
 mere fighting, in wdiatever cause, so it 
 were bravely and knightly done, was 
 the most honored and noblest profes- 
 
14 
 
 I T ittoria Colon^ia. 
 
 sion of that day. So much of real 
 greatness as could be imparted to the 
 profession of war, by devotion to a 
 person, might occasionally—though 
 not very frequently in Italy—have 
 been met with among the soldiers of 
 that period. But all those elements 
 of genuine heroism, which are gene¬ 
 rated by devotion to a cause , and all 
 those ideas of patriotism, of resistance 
 to wrong, and assertion of human 
 rights, which compel the philosopher 
 and philanthropist to admit that war 
 may sometimes be righteous, noble, 
 elevating, to those engaged in it, and 
 prolific of high thoughts and great 
 deeds, were wholly unknown to the 
 chivalry of Italy at the time in question. 
 
 And, indeed, as far as the feeling of 
 nationality is concerned, the institution 
 of knighthood itself, as it then existed, 
 was calculated to prevent the growth 
 of patriotic sentiment. For the com- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 45 
 
 monwealth of chivalry was of European 
 extent. The knights of England, 
 France, Italy, Spain, and Germany, 
 were brothers in arms, linked together 
 by a community of thought and senti¬ 
 ment infinitely stronger than any which 
 bound them to the other classes of their 
 own countrymen. The aggregation of 
 caste wholly overbore that of nation¬ 
 ality. And the nature of the former, 
 though not wholly evil in its influences, 
 any more than that of the latter is 
 wholly good, is yet infinitely narrower, 
 less humanizing, and less ennobling in 
 its action on human motives and conduct. 
 And war, the leading aggregative occu¬ 
 pation of those days, was proportionably 
 narrowed in its scope, deteriorated in 
 its influences, and rendered incapable 
 of supplying that stimulus to healthy 
 human development which it has in its 
 more noble forms, indisputably some¬ 
 times furnished to mankind. 
 
46 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 And it is important to the great his¬ 
 tory of modern civilization, that these 
 truths should be recognized and clearly 
 understood. For this same period, 
 which is here in question, was, as all 
 know, one of great intellectual ac¬ 
 tivity, of rapid development, and fruit¬ 
 ful progress. And historical specula¬ 
 tors on these facts, finding this unusual 
 movement of mind contemporaneous 
 with a time of almost universal and un¬ 
 ceasing warfare, have thought, that 
 some of the producing causes of the 
 former fact were to be found in the ex¬ 
 istence of the latter ; and have argued, 
 that the general ferment, and stirring 
 up, produced by these chivalrous, but 
 truly ignoble wars, assisted mainly in 
 generating that exceptionally fervid 
 condition of the human mind. But, 
 admitting that a time of national strug¬ 
 gle for some worthy object may prob¬ 
 ably be lound to exercise such an in- 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 47 
 
 fluence, as tliat attributed to the Italian 
 wars of the fifteenth and sixteenth cen¬ 
 turies, it is certain that these latter 
 were ot no such ennobling nature. And 
 the causes of the great intellectual 
 movement of those centuries must there¬ 
 fore be sought elsewhere. 
 
 From the time when “ il gran Ca- 
 pitano ” Consalvo, on behalf of his mas¬ 
 ter, Ferdinand of Spain, having pre¬ 
 viously assisted the French in driving 
 out the unfortunate Frederick, the last 
 of the Aragonese kings of Naples, had 
 afterwards finally succeeded in expel¬ 
 ling the French from their share of the 
 stolen kingdom, the affairs of the Co- 
 lonna cousins, Fabrizio and Prospero, 
 began to brighten. The last French 
 troops quitted Naples on January 1, 
 1504. By a diploma, bearing date No¬ 
 vember 15, 1504, 1 and still preserved 
 among the Colonna archives, eighteen 
 
 1 Coppi, Mem. Col., p 249. 
 
48 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 baronies were conferred on Prospero 
 Colonna by Ferdinand. On the 28th 
 of the same month, all the fiefs which 
 Fabrizio had formerly possessed in the 
 Abruzzi were restored to him; and by 
 another deed, dated the same day, 
 thirty-three others, in the Abruzzi and 
 the Terra di Lavoro, were bestowed on 
 him. 
 
 In the mean time, earth had been re¬ 
 lieved from the presence of the Borgia 
 Vicegerent of heaven, and Julius II 
 reigned in his stead.. By him the Co¬ 
 lonna were relieved from their excom¬ 
 munication, and restored to all their 
 Homan possessions. So that the new T s 
 of the family fortunes, which from time 
 to time reached the daughter of the 
 house in her happy retirement in rocky 
 Ischia, from the period at which she be¬ 
 gan to be of an age to appreciate the 
 importance of such matters, were alto¬ 
 gether favorable. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 49 
 
 But the tranquil life there during 
 these years was not unbroken by sym¬ 
 pathy with the vicissitudes which were 
 variously affecting the excitable city, 
 over which the little recluse court look¬ 
 ed from their island home. The un¬ 
 timely death of Ferdinand II, on Fri¬ 
 day, October 7, 1496, threw the first 
 deep shade over the household of the 
 Duchessa di Francavilia, which had 
 crossed it since Vittoria had become its 
 inmate. Never, according to the con¬ 
 temporary journalist, Giuliano Passeri, 1 
 was prince more truly lamented by his 
 people of every class. Almost imme¬ 
 diately after his marriage, the young 
 king and his wife both fell ill at Som- 
 ma, near Naples. The diarist describes 
 the melancholy spectacle of the two 
 biers, supporting the sick king and 
 queen, entering their capital side by 
 side. Everv thiim that the science of 
 
 */ o 
 
 5 
 
 1 Note 1. 
 
50 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 the time could suggest, even to the car¬ 
 rying in procession of the head as well 
 as the blood of St. Januarius, was tried 
 in vain. The young king, of whom so 
 much was hoped, died ; and there arose 
 throughout the city, writes Passeri, “ a 
 cry of weeping so great, that it seemed as 
 if the whole world were falling in ruin, 
 all, both great and small, male and fe¬ 
 male, crying aloud to heaven for pity. 
 So that I £pily think, that since God 
 made the world, a greater weeping than 
 this was never known.” 
 
 Then came the great Jubilee year, 
 1500; on which occasion a circumstance 
 occurred, that set all Naples talking. It 
 was discussed, we may shrewdly con¬ 
 jecture, in a somewhat different spirit 
 in that Ischia household, which most 
 interests us, from the tone in which the 
 excitable city chattered of it. At the 
 beginning of April, 1 the Neapolitans, 
 
 1 Passeri, p 122. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 51 
 
 in honor of the great Jubilee, sent a 
 deputation, carrying with them the cele¬ 
 brated Virgin, della Bruna dello Car¬ 
 mine, who justified her reputation, and 
 did credit to her country by working 
 innumerable miracles all the way as she 
 went. But what was the mortification 
 of her bearers, when arrived at Home, 
 the result of the fame arising from their 
 triumphant progress was, that Pope 
 Borgia, jealous of a foreign Virgin, 
 which might divert the alms of the 
 faithful from the Roman begging boxes, 
 showed himself so thorough a protec¬ 
 tionist of the home manufacture, that 
 he ordered the Neapolitan Virgin to be 
 carried back again immediately. This 
 had to be done; but Madonna della 
 Bruna, nothing daunted, worked mir¬ 
 acles faster than ever as she was being 
 carried off, and continued to do so all 
 the way home. 
 
 In July, 1501, there came a guest to 
 
02 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 the dwelling of Costanza d’Avalos, 
 whose coming and going must have 
 made a durable impression on the open¬ 
 ing mind of Vittoria, then just eleven 
 .years old. This was Frederick, the 
 last of the Aragonese kings. When all 
 had gone against him, and the French 
 had taken, and most cruelly sacked 
 Capua, and were advancing on Naples, 1 
 he sought refuge with his wife and chil¬ 
 dren on the Island of Ischia, and re¬ 
 mained there till he left it on the 6th 
 ot September to throw himself on the 
 generosity of the French King. Fa- 
 brizio Colonna was, it is recorded, with 
 him on the island, where the fallen 
 king left for a while his wife and chil- 
 dien ; and had then an opportunity of 
 seeing,- as far as the brave condottiere 
 chieftain had eyes to see such matters, 
 
 ' the progress his daughter had made 
 in all graces and good gifts during six 
 
 1 Passeri, p. 126. 
 
"Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 53 
 
 years of the superintendence of Costan¬ 
 za d’Avalos. 
 
 Then there came occasionally events, 
 which doubtless called the Duchessa di 
 Francavilla from her retirement to the 
 neighboring, but strongly contrasted 
 scene of Naples; and in all probability 
 furnished opportunities of showing her 
 young pupil something of the great and 
 gay world of the brilliant and always 
 noisy capital. Such, for instance, was 
 the entry of Ferdinand of Spain into 
 Naples, on November 1,1506. The same 
 people, who so recently were making 
 the greatest lamentation ever heard in 
 the world over the death of Ferdinand 
 of Aragon, were now equally loud and 
 vehement 1 in their welcome to his false 
 usurping kinsman, Ferdinand ol Castile. 
 A pier was run out an hundred paces 
 into the sea for him and his queen to 
 land at, and a tabernacle, “ all of line 
 
 * Passer!, p. 146. 
 
54 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 wrought gold,” says Passeri, erected on 
 it for him to rest in. The city wall 
 w r as thrown down to make a new pas¬ 
 sage for his entrance into the city ; all 
 Naples was gay with triumphal arches 
 and hangings. The mole, writes the 
 same gossiping authority, w T as so crowd¬ 
 ed, that a grain of millet thrown among 
 them would not have reached the 
 ground. Nothing was to be heard in 
 all Naples but the thunder of cannon, 
 and nothing to be seen but velvet, silk, 
 and brocade, and gold on all sides. 
 The streets were lined with richly tap¬ 
 estried seats, filled with all the noble 
 dames of Naples, who, as the royal 
 cortege passed, rose, and advancing, 
 kissed the hands of the king, “ et lo 
 signore Pe di questo si pigliava gran 
 piacere.” It is a characteristic incident 
 of the times, that as quick as the cortege 
 passed, all the rich and costly prepara¬ 
 tions for its passage were, as Passeri tells 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 55 
 
 us, scramb led for and made booty of 
 by the populace. 
 
 The Duchessa di Franca villa, at 
 least, who had witnessed the melancholy 
 departure of Frederick from her own 
 roof, when he went forth a wanderer 
 from his lost kingdom, must have felt 
 the hollowness and little worth of all 
 this noisy demonstration, if none other 
 among the assembled crowd felt it. 
 And it may easily be imagined how she 
 moralized the scene to the lovely blonde 
 girl at her side, now at sixteen, in the 
 first bloom of her beauty, as they re¬ 
 turned, tired with the unwonted fatigue 
 of their gala doings, to their quiet home 
 in Ischia. 
 
 Here is a specimen from the pages of 
 the gossiping weaver, 1 of the sort of 
 subjects which were the talk of the day 
 in Naples in those times. 
 
 In December, 1507, a certain Span- 
 
 1 Passeri, p. 151. 
 
56 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 iard, Pietro de Pace, by name, a hunch¬ 
 back, and much deformed, but who 
 “ was of high courage, and in terrestrial 
 matters had no fear of spirits or of ven¬ 
 omous animals,” determined to explore 
 the caverns of Pozzuoli; and discover¬ 
 ed in them several bronze statues and 
 medals, and antique lamps. He found 
 also some remains of leaden pipes, on 
 one ot which the words u Imperator 
 Caesar” were legible. Moreover, he 
 saw “ certain lizards as large as vipers.” 
 But for all this, Pietro considered his 
 adventure an unsuccessful one ; for 
 he had hoped to find hidden treasure 
 in the caverns. 
 
 Then there was barely time for this 
 nine days’ wonder to run out its natural 
 span, before a very much more serious 
 matter was occupying every mind, and 
 making every tongue wag in Naples. 
 On the night preceding Christmas day, 
 in the year 1507, the Convent of St. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 57 
 
 Clare was discovered to be on tire. The 
 building was destroyed, and the nuns, 
 belonging mostly to noble Neapolitan 
 families, were burnt out of their holy 
 home ;—distressing enough on many 
 accounts. But still it was not altogether 
 the misfortune of these holy ladies that 
 spread consternation throughout the 
 city. It was the practice, it seems, for 
 a great number of the possessors of 
 valuables of all sorts, u Baruni od altri,” 
 as Passeri says, 1 in his homely Neapoli¬ 
 tan dialect, to provide against the con¬ 
 tinual dangers to which movable prop¬ 
 erty was exposed, by consigning their 
 goods to the keeping of some religious 
 community. And the nuns of St. Clare, 
 especially, were very largely employed 
 in this way. The consequence was, 
 that the almost incredibly large amount 
 of three hundred thousand ducats worth 
 of valuable articles of all sorts was de- 
 
 1 Passeri, p. 152. 
 
58 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 stroyed in this disastrous fire. Taking 
 into consideration the difference in the 
 value of money, this sum must he cal¬ 
 culated to represent at least a million 
 and a half sterling of our money. And 
 it is necessary to bear in mind how 
 large a proportion of a rich man’s 
 wealth in those days consisted in chat¬ 
 tels to render the estimate of the loss 
 at all credible. 
 
 The prices, however, at which cer¬ 
 tain of the products of artistic industry 
 were then estimated, were such as 
 to render such an accumulation of 
 property possible enough. For in¬ 
 stance, among the valuables recorded 
 by Passeri as belonging to Ferdinand 
 of Aragon I, were three pieces of 
 tapestry, which were called “ La Pas- 
 torella,” and were considered to be 
 worth 130,000 ducats. 
 
 And thus the years rolled on • 
 Naples gradually settling down into 
 
59 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 ■■ , _____ ___ __ 
 
 tranquillity under the Spanish rule, 
 administered by the first of the long 
 list of viceroys, the “ Gran Capitano,” 
 Don Consalvo de Corduba, and the 
 star of the Colonna shining more stead¬ 
 ily than ever in the ascendant, till in 
 the year 1509, the nineteenth of Vit- 
 toria’s and of the bridegroom's age, it 
 was determined to celebrate the long 
 arranged marriage. 
 
 It took place on the 27th of Decem¬ 
 ber in that year ; and Passeri mentions, 1 
 that Vittoria came to Ischia from Ma¬ 
 rino on the occasion, escorted by a 
 large company of Roman nobles. It 
 appears, therefore, that she must have 
 quitted Ischia previously. But it is 
 probable that she did so only for a 
 short visit to her native home, before 
 finally settling in her husband’s country. 
 
 The marriage festival was held in 
 Ischia, with all the pomp then usual 
 
 1 Passeri, p. 162. 
 
60 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 on sucli occasions ; and that, as will be 
 seen in a subsequent page, from the 
 accounts preserved by Passeri of an¬ 
 other wedding, at which Vittoria was 
 present, was a serious matter. The 
 only particulars recorded for us, of her 
 own marriage ceremony, consist of two 
 lists of the presents reciprocally made 
 by the bride and bridegroom. These 
 have been printed from the original 
 documents in the Colonna archives, by 
 Signor Visconti, and are curious illus¬ 
 trations of the habits and manners of 
 that day. 
 
 The Marquis acknowledges to have 
 received, says the document, from the 
 Lord Fabrizio Colonna and the Lady 
 Vittoria:— 
 
 1. A bed of French fashion, with 
 the curtains and all the hangings of 
 crimson satin, lined witli blue taffetas 
 with large fringes of gold ; with three 
 mattresses and a counterpane of crim- 
 
61 
 
 Vittor ia Colonna. 
 
 son satin of similar workmanship ; and 
 four pillows of crimson satin garnished 
 with fringes and tassels of gold. 
 
 2. A cloak of crimson raised brocade. 
 
 3. A cloak of black raised brocade, 
 and white silk. 
 
 4. A cloak of purple velvet and pur¬ 
 ple brocade. 
 
 5. A cross of diamonds and a hous¬ 
 ing for a mule of wrought gold. 
 
 The other document sets forth the 
 presents offered by Pescara to his 
 bride :— 
 
 1. A cross of diamonds with a chain 
 of gold of the value of 1000 ducats. 
 
 2. A ruby, a diamond, and an emer¬ 
 ald set in gold* of the value of 400 
 ducats. 
 
 3. A “ desciorgh ” of gold (whatever 
 that may be) of the value of 100 ducats. 
 
 4. Twelve bracelets of gold, of the 
 value of 40 ducats. 
 
 Then follow fifteen articles of female 
 6 
 
62 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 dress, gowns, petticoals, mantles, skirts, 
 and various other finery with strange 
 names, only to be explained by the 
 ghost of some sixteenth century mil¬ 
 liner, and altogether ignored by Du- 
 cange, and all other lexicographers. 
 But they are described as composed 
 of satin, velvet, brocade; besides crim¬ 
 son velvet trimmed with gold fringe, 
 and lined with ermine; and flesh-color¬ 
 ed silk petticoats, trimmed with black 
 velvet. The favorite color appears 
 to be decidedly crimson. 
 
 It is noticeable, that while all the 
 more valuable presents of Pescara to 
 Vittoria are priced, nothing is said of 
 the value of her gifts to the bride¬ 
 groom. Are we to see in this an indi¬ 
 cation of a greater delicacy of feeling 
 on the part of the lady ? 
 
 So the priests did their office—a pan 
 of the celebration, which, curiously 
 enough, we learn from Passeri, was 
 
Vittorio Colonna. <53 
 
 often in those days at Naples, deferred, 
 sometimes for years, till after the con¬ 
 summation of the marriage—the Pan- 
 tagruelian feastings were got through, 
 the guests departed, boat load after 
 boat load, from the rocky shore of 
 Ischia; and the little island, restored 
 after the unusual hubbub to its wont¬ 
 ed quiet, was left to be the scene of as 
 happy a honeymoon as the most ro¬ 
 mantic of novel readers could wish 
 for her favorite heroine. 
 
64 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Vittoria’s Married Life.—Pescara goes where Glory awaits 
 Him.—The Rout of Ravenna.—Pescara iu Prison turns 
 Penman.—His “Dialogo di amore."—Yittoria’s Poetical 
 Epistle to her Husband.—Vittoria and the Marchese del 
 Yasto.—Three Cart-loads of Ladies, and three Mule-loads 
 of Sweetmeats.—Character of Pescara.—His Cruelty.— 
 Anecdote in Proof of it. 
 
 The two years which followed, Vittoria 
 always looked back on as the only 
 truly happy portion of her life, and 
 many are the passages of her poems 
 which recall their tranquil and unbroken 
 felicity, a sweet dream, from which 
 she was too soon to be awakened to 
 the ordinary vicissitudes of sixteenth 
 century life. The happiest years of 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 65 
 
 individuals, as of nations, afford least 
 materials for history, and of Vittoria’s 
 two years of honeymoon in Ischia, the 
 whole record is 'that she was happy ; 
 and she wrote no poetry. 
 
 Early in 1512 came the waking from 
 this pleasant dream. Pescara was, of 
 course, to be a soldier. In his position 
 not to have begun to fight, as soon as 
 his beard was fairly grown, would have 
 been little short of infamy. So he set 
 forth to join the army in Lombardy, in 
 company with his father-in-law, Fa- 
 brizio. Of course there was an army 
 in Lombardy, where towns were being 
 besieged, fields laid w r aste, and glory to 
 be had for the winning. There always 
 was, in those good old times of course. 
 French, Swiss, Spanish, German, Vene¬ 
 tian, Papal, and Milanese troops were 
 fighting each other, with changes of 
 alliances and sides almost as frerpient 
 and as confusing as the changing of 
 6 * 
 
66 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 partners in a cotillion. It is trouble¬ 
 some and not of much consequence to 
 understand who were just then friends 
 and who foes, and what were the exact 
 objects all the different parties had in 
 cutting each other’s throats. And it 
 will be quite sufficient to say that the 
 Duchy of Milan was at that moment 
 the chief bone of contention,—that the 
 principal pretenders to the glory of 
 “ annexing ” it were the King of France 
 and the King of Spain, who was now 
 also King of Kaples—that the Pope 
 was just then allied with Spain, and 
 the Venetians with France, and that 
 [taly generally was preparing for the 
 destiny she has worked out for herself, 
 by the constant endeavor to avail her¬ 
 self of the destroying presence of these 
 foreign troops, and tneir rivalries, for 
 the prosecution of her internal quarrels, 
 and the attainment of equally low and 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 67 
 
 yet more unjustifiable, because fratri¬ 
 cidal aims. 
 
 Pescara, as a Neapolitan subject of 
 the King of Spain, joined the army op¬ 
 posed to the French, under the walls 
 of Kavenna. Vittoria, though her sub¬ 
 sequent writings prove how much the 
 parting cost her, showed how thor¬ 
 oughly she was a soldier’s daughter and 
 a soldier’s wife. There had been some 
 suggestion, it seems, that the marquis, 
 as the sole surviving scion of an ancient 
 and noble name, might fairly consider 
 it his duty not to subject it to the risk 
 of extinction by exposing his life in the 
 field. The young soldier, however, 
 wholly refused to listen to such coun¬ 
 sels ; and his wife strongly supported 
 his view of the course honor counselled 
 him to follow, by advice, which a 
 young and beautiful wife, who was to 
 remain surrounded by a brilliant circle 
 of wits and poets, would scarcely have 
 
68 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 ventured on offering, had she not felt 
 a perfect security from all danger of 
 being misinterpreted, equally creditable 
 to wife and husband. 
 
 So the young soldier took for a motto 
 on his shield, the well-known “With 
 this, or on this ; ” and having expended, 
 we are told, much care and cash on a 
 magnificent equipment, was at once 
 appointed to the command of the light 
 cavalry. The knowledge and experi¬ 
 ence necessary for such a position comes 
 by nature, it must be supposed, to the 
 descendant of a long line of noble 
 knights, as surely as pointing does to 
 the scion of a race of pointers. But the 
 young warrior’s episcopal 1 biographer 
 cursorily mentions, that certain old and 
 trusty veterans, who had obtained their 
 military science by experience, and not 
 by right of birth, w T ere attached to his 
 person. 
 
 1 Giovio, Bp. of Como, Life of Pescara, book i. 
 
Vittor ia Colonn a . 
 
 69 
 
 The general of light cavalry arrived 
 at the camp at an unfortunate moment. 
 The total defeat of the United Spanish 
 and Papal army by the French before 
 Ravenna on the 9th of April, 1512, im¬ 
 mediately followed. Fabrizio Colonna 
 and his son-in-law were both made 
 prisoners. The latter had been left for 
 dead on the field, covered with wounds, 
 which subsequently gave occasion to 
 Isabella of Aragon, Duchess of Milan, 
 to say, u I would fain be a man, Signor 
 Marchese, if it were only to receive 
 such wounds as yours in the face, that 
 I might see if they would become me 
 as they do you.” 1 
 
 Pescara, when packed up from the 
 field, was carried a prisoner to Milan, 
 where, by means of the good offices and 
 powerful influence of Trivulzio, who 
 had married Beatrice d’Avalos, Pee- 
 
 * Filocalo, MS. Life of Pescara, cited by ViscDiiti, j 
 Ixxxii. 
 
70 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 cara’s aunt, and was now a general in 
 the service of France, his detention was 
 rendered as little disagreeable as pos¬ 
 sible, and he was, as soon as his wounds 
 were healed, permitted to ransom him¬ 
 self for six thousand ducats. 1 
 
 During his short confinement he 
 amused his leisure by composing a 
 “ Dialogo d’Amore,” which he inscrib¬ 
 ed and sent to his wife. The Bishop of 
 Como, his biographer, testifies that this 
 work was exceedingly pleasant reading 
 —“ summse jucunditatis ”—and full of 
 grave and witty conceits and thoughts. 
 The world, however, has seen fit to al¬ 
 low this treasury of wit to perish, not¬ 
 withstanding the episcopal criticism. 
 And in all probability the world was in 
 the right. If, indeed, the literary gen¬ 
 eral of light horse had written his own 
 real thoughts and speculations on love, 
 there might have been some interest in 
 
 1 Giovio, lib. i. 
 
Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 71 
 
 seeing a sixteenth century soldier’s 
 views on that ever interesting subject. 
 But we may be quite certain, that the 
 Dialogo, “ stuffed full,” as Giovio says, 
 “ of grave sentiments and exquisite con¬ 
 ceits,” contained only a reproduction 
 of the classic banalities, and ingenious 
 absurdities, which were current in the 
 fashionable literature of the day. Yet 
 it must be admitted, that the employ¬ 
 ment of his leisure in any such manner, 
 and still more, the dedication of his 
 labors on such a subject to his wife, are 
 indications of an amount of cultivation 
 and right feeling, which would hardly 
 have been found, either one or the 
 other, among many of the preux che¬ 
 valiers, his brothers-in-arms. 
 
 Meanwhile, Yittoria, on her part, 
 wrote a poetical epistle to her husband 
 in prison, which is the first production 
 of her pen that has reached us. It is 
 written in Dante’s “ terza rima,” and 
 
72 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 consisted of 112 lines. Both Italian 
 and French critics have expressed 
 highly favorable judgments of this little 
 poem. And it may be admitted that 
 the lines are elegant, classical, well- 
 turned, and ingenious. But those who 
 seek something more than all this in 
 poetry—who look for passion, high and 
 noble thoughts, happy illustration or 
 deep analysis of human feeling, will 
 find nothing of the sort. That Yittoria 
 did feel acutely her husband’s misfor¬ 
 tune, and bitterly regret his absence 
 from her, there is every reason to be¬ 
 lieve. But she is unable to express 
 these sentiments naturally or forcibly. 
 She, in all probability, made no attempt 
 to do so, judging from the models on 
 which she had been taught to form her 
 style, that when she sat down to make 
 poetry, the aim to be kept in view was 
 a very different one. Hence we have 
 talk of Hector and Achilles, Eolus, 
 
Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 73 
 
 Sirens, and marine deities, Pompey, 
 Cornelia, Cato, Martia, and Mithridates 
 —a parade of all the treasures of the 
 schoolroom. The pangs of the wife left 
 lonely in her home are in neatly anti¬ 
 thetical phrase contrasted with the 
 dangers and toils of the husband in the 
 field. Then we have a punning allu¬ 
 sion in her own name :— 
 
 “ Se Vittoria volevi, io t’ era appresso ; 
 Ma tu, lasciando me, lasciasti lei.” 
 
 “ If victory was thy desire, I was by 
 thy side; but in leaving me, thou didst 
 leave also her .’ 5 
 
 The best, because the simplest and 
 most natural lines, are the following :— 
 
 “ Seguir si deve il sposo e dentro e fora; 
 
 E, s’ egli pate affanno, ella patisca; 
 
 Se lieto, lieta; e se vi more, mora. 
 
 A quel che arrisca I’un, 1’ altro s’ arrisca; 
 
 Eguali in vita, eguali siano in morte; 
 
 E cio che avviene a lui, a lei sortisca.” 
 
 7 
 
74 
 
 Yittoria Colonna. 
 
 “ At home or abroad the wife should 
 follow her husband ; and if he suffers 
 distress, she should suffer ; should be 
 joyful if he is joyful, and should die if 
 he dies. The danger confronted by the 
 one should he confronted by the other; 
 equals in life, they should be equal in 
 death ; and that which happens to him 
 should be her lot also,”—a mere farrago 
 of rhetorical prettinesses, as cold as a 
 school-boy’s prize verses, and unani¬ 
 mated by a spark of genuine feeling ; 
 although the writer was as truly affec¬ 
 tionate a wife as ever man had. 
 
 But, although all that Yittoria wrote, 
 and all that the vast number of the po¬ 
 ets and poetesses, her contemporaries, 
 wrote, was obnoxious to the same re¬ 
 marks ; still it will be seen, that in the 
 maturity of her powers she could do 
 better than this. Her religious poetry 
 may be said, generally, to be much su¬ 
 perior to her love verses; either be- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 15 
 
 cause they were composed when her 
 mind had grown to its full stature, or, 
 as seems probable, because, model wife 
 as she was, the subject took a deeper 
 hold of her mind, and stirred the depths 
 of her heart more powerfully. 
 
 Very shortly after the despatch of 
 her poetical epistle, Vittoria was over¬ 
 joyed by the unexpected return of her 
 husband. And again for a brief inter¬ 
 val she considered herself the happiest 
 of women. 
 
 One circumstance indeed there was 
 to mar the entirety of her contentment. 
 She was still childless. And it seems, 
 that the science of that day, ignorantly 
 dogmatical, undertook to assert, that 
 she would continue to be so. Both 
 husband and wife seemed to have sub¬ 
 mitted to the award undoubtingly ; and 
 the dictum, however rashly uttered, was 
 justified by the event. 
 
 Under these circumstances, Yittoria 
 
76 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 undertook the-education of Alphonso 
 d’Avalos, Marcliese del Vasto, a young 
 cousin of her husband’s. The task was 
 a sufficiently arduous one for the hoy, 
 beautiful, it is recorded, as an angel, 
 and endowed with excellent capabili¬ 
 ties of all sorts, was so wholly unbroken, 
 and ot so violent and ungovernable a 
 disposition, ’that he had been the de¬ 
 spair and terror of all who had hitherto 
 attempted to educate him. Yittoria 
 thought that she saw in the wild and 
 passionate boy the materials of a worthy 
 man. The event fully justified her 
 judgment, and proved the really supe¬ 
 rior powers of mind she must have 
 brought to the accomplishment of it. 
 Alphonso became a soldier of renown, 
 not untinctured by those literary tastes 
 which so remarkably distinguished his 
 gentle preceptress. A strong and last¬ 
 ing affection grew between them ; and 
 
 1 Visconti, p. 77. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 77 
 
 Vittoria, proud with good reason of her 
 work, was often wont to say, that the 
 reproach of being childless ought not 
 to be deemed applicable to her whose 
 moral nature might well be said to 
 have brought forth that of her pupil. 
 
 Pescara’s visit to Naples was a very 
 short one. Early in 1513, we tind him 
 again with the armies in Lombardy, 
 taking part in most of the mischief and 
 glory going. 
 
 Under the date of July the 4th in 
 that year, the gossiping Naples weaver 
 who rarely fails to note the doings ot 
 the Neapolitan General of light horse 
 with infinite pride and admiration, has 
 preserved for us a rather picturesque 
 little bit of Ariosto-flavored camp life. 
 The Spanish army, under Don Ray¬ 
 mond di Cardona, who, on Consalvo’s 
 death had succeeded him as Viceroy 
 of Naples, was on its march from Pes- 
 chiera to Verona, when a messenger 
 7* 
 
78 
 
 'Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 from the beautiful young Marchioness 
 of Mantua came to the General-in-chief 
 to say that she wished to see those cele¬ 
 brated Spanish troops, who were march¬ 
 ing under his banners, and was then 
 waiting their passage in the vineyards 
 of the Castle of Villafranca. “ A cer¬ 
 tain gentle lady of Mantua, named the 
 Signora Laura, with whom Don Ray¬ 
 mond was in love,” writes the weaver, 
 was with the Marchioness ; and much 
 pleased was he at the message. So 
 word was passed to the various cap¬ 
 tains ; and when the column reached 
 the spot, where the Marchioness with 
 a great number of ladies and cavaliers 
 of Mantua were reposing in the shade 
 of the vines, “Don Ferrante d’Alar- 
 cone, as Chief Marshal, with his baton 
 in his hand, made all the troops halt, 
 and placed themselves in order of bat¬ 
 tle ; and the Signor Marchese di Pes¬ 
 cara marched at the head of the infan- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 19 
 
 try, with a pair of breeches cut after 
 the Swiss fashion, and a plume on his 
 head, and a two-handed sword in his 
 hand, and all the standards were un¬ 
 furled.” And when the Marchioness 
 from among the vines looking down 
 through the chequered shade on to the 
 road saw that all was in order, she and 
 her ladies got into three carts, so that 
 there came out of the vineyard, says 
 Passeri, three cartsful of ladies sur¬ 
 rounded by the cavaliers of Mantua on 
 horseback. There they came very 
 slowly jolting over the cultivated 
 ground, those three heavy bullock carts, 
 with their primitive wheels of one solid 
 circular piece of wood, and their huge 
 cream-colored oxen with enormous horn¬ 
 ed heads gaily decorated, as Leopold 
 Robert shows them to us, and the bril¬ 
 liant tinted dresses of the laughingbevy 
 drawn by them, glancing gaudily in the 
 sun -light among the soberer coloring of 
 
80 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 the vineyards in their summer pride of 
 green. Then Don Raymond and Pes¬ 
 cara advanced to the carts, and handed 
 from them the Marchioness and Donna 
 Laura, who mounted on handsomely 
 equipped jennets prepared for them. It 
 does not appear that this attention was 
 extended to any of the other ladies, who 
 must therefore be supposed to have re¬ 
 mained sitting in the carts, while the 
 Marchioness and the favored Donna 
 Laura rode through the ranks “ con 
 multa festa et gloria.” And when she 
 had seen all, with much pleasure and 
 admiration, on a given signal three 
 mules loaded with sweetmeats were led 
 forward, with which the gay Marchion¬ 
 ess “ regaled all the captains.” Then 
 all the company with much content, 
 —excepting, it is to be feared, the sol¬ 
 diers, who had to stand at arms under 
 the July sun, while their officers were 
 eating sugar-plums, and Don Raymond 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 81 
 
 and Donna Laura were saying and swal¬ 
 lowing sweet tilings,—took leave of each 
 other, the army pursuing its march to¬ 
 wards Yerona, and the Marc!lioness and 
 her ladies returning in their carts to 
 Mantua. 1 
 
 The other scattered notices of Pes¬ 
 cara’s doings during his campaign are 
 of a less festive character. They show 
 him to have been a hard and cruel 
 man, reckless of human suffering, and 
 eminent even among his fellow captains 
 for the ferocity, and often wanton ness of 
 the ravages and wide-spreaff misery he 
 wrought. On more than one occasion, 
 Passeri winds up his narrative of some 
 destruction of a town, or desolation of 
 a fertile and cultivated district, by the 
 remark, that the cruelty committed was 
 worse than Turks would have been 
 guilty of. Yet this same Passeri, an 
 artisan, belonging to a class which had 
 
 1 Passeri, p. 197. 
 
82 
 
 'Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 all to suffer and nothing to gain from 
 such atrocities, writes, when chronicling 
 this same Pescara’s 1 death, that “ on that 
 day died, I would have you know, 
 gentle readers, the most glorious and 
 honored captain that the world has 
 seen for the last hundred years.” It is 
 curious to observe how wholly the 
 popular mind was enslaved to the pre¬ 
 judices and conventional absurdities of 
 the ruling classes; how entirely the 
 feelings of the masses were in unison 
 with those of the caste which oppressed 
 them; how little reason they conceiv¬ 
 ed they had to complain under the 
 most intolerable treatment, and how 
 little hope of progressive amelioration 
 there was from the action of native- 
 bred public opinion. 
 
 Bishop Giovio, the. biographer and 
 panegyrist of Pescara admits, that he 
 was a stern and cruelly-severe disci- 
 
 1 Passeri, p. 326. 
 
Vittoria Color na. 
 
 83 
 
 plinarian ; and mentions an anecdote in 
 proof of it. * A soldier was brought be¬ 
 fore him for having entered a house en 
 route for the purpose of plundering. 
 The General ordered that his ears should 
 be cut off. The culprit remonstrated ; 
 and begged, with many entreaties, to 
 be spared so dishonoring and ignomin¬ 
 ious a punishment, saying in his distress 
 that death itself would have been more 
 tolerable. 
 
 “ The grace demanded is granted,” 
 rejoined Pescara instantly, with grim 
 pleasantry. “ Take this soldier, who is 
 so careful of his honor, and hang him to 
 that tree ! ” 
 
 In vain did the wretch beg not to be 
 taken at his word so cruelly, no en¬ 
 treaties sufficed to change the savage 
 decree. 
 
 It will be well that we should bear 
 m mind these indications of the essen¬ 
 tial nature of this great and glorious 
 
84 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 captain, who had studied those ingen¬ 
 uous arts which soften the character, 
 and do not suffer men to be ferocious, 
 as the poet assures us, and who could 
 write dialogues on love, when we come 
 to consider the curious phenomenon of 
 Vittoria’s unmeasured love for her hus¬ 
 band. 
 
'Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 85 
 
 CHAPTER IY. 
 
 Society in Ischia.—Bernardo Tasso’s sonnet thereon.—How 
 a wedding was celebrated in Naples in 1517.—A Sixteenth 
 Century trousseau.—Sack of Genoa.—The Battle of 
 Pavia.—Italian conspiracy against Charles V.— Character 
 of Pescara.—Honor in 1525.—Pescara’s treason.— Vittoria’s 
 sentiments on the occasion.—Pescara’s infamy.—Patriot¬ 
 ism unknown in Italy in the Sixteenth Century.— No 
 such sentiment to be found in the writings of Yittoria.— 
 Evil influence of her husband’s character on her mind.— 
 Death of Pescara. 
 
 Meanwhile, Yittoria continued her 
 peaceful and quiet life in Ischia, lonely 
 indeed, as far as the dearest affections 
 of her heart was concerned, but cheer¬ 
 ed and improved by the society of that 
 select knot of poets and men of learn- 
 8 
 
I 88 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 ing, whom Costanza di Francavilla, not 
 unassisted by the presence of Vittoria, 
 attracted to her little island court. We 
 find Musefilo, Filocalo, Giovio, Min- 
 tnrno, Cariteo, Bota, Sanazzaro, and 
 Bernardo Tasso, among those who help¬ 
 ed to make this remote rock celebrated 
 throughout Europe at that day, as one 
 of the best loved haunts of Apollo and 
 the Muses,—to speak in the phrase¬ 
 ology of the time. 
 
 Many among them have left pas¬ 
 sages recording the happy days spent 
 on that fortunate island. The social 
 circle was doubtless a charming and 
 brilliant one, and the more so, as con¬ 
 trasted with the general tone and habits 
 of the society of the period. But the 
 style of the following sonnet by Ber¬ 
 nardo Tasso, selected by Visconti as a 
 specimen of the various effusions by 
 members of the select circle upon the 
 subject, while it accurately illustrates 
 
Vittoria Colonna . 
 
 87 
 
 the prevailing modes of thought and 
 diction of that period, will hardly fail 
 to suggest the idea of a comparison— 
 mutatis mutandis—between this com¬ 
 pany of sixteenth century choice spirits, 
 and that which assembled, and pro¬ 
 voked so severe a lashing in the mem¬ 
 orable Hotel de Rambouillet, more than 
 an hundred years afterwards. But an 
 Italian Moliere is as wholly impossible 
 in the nature of things, as a French 
 Dante. And the sixteenth century 
 swarm of Petrarchists and Classicists 
 have, unlike true prophets, found 
 honor in their own country. 
 
 Gentle Bernardo celebrates in this 
 wise these famed Ischia meetings 
 
 “ Superbo scoglio, altero e bel ricetto 
 Di tanti chiari eroi, d’imperadori, 
 
 Onde raggi di gloria escono fuori, 
 
 Ch’ ogni altro lume fan scuro e negletto; 
 Se per vera virtute al ben perfetto 
 Salir si puote ed agli eterni onori, 
 
 Queste piu d’ altre degne alme e migliori 
 
88 
 
 Vittor ia Colonna. 
 
 Y’ andran, che chiudi nel petroso petto. 
 
 II lume e in te dell’ armi; in te s’asconde 
 Casta belta, valore e cortesia, 
 
 Quanta mai vide il tempo, o diede il cielo. 
 
 Ti sian secondi i fati, e il vento e 1’ onde 
 Rendanti onore, e 1’ aria tua natia 
 Abbia sempre temprato il caldo e il gelo 1 ” 
 
 Which may he thus u done into Eng¬ 
 lish,” for the sake of giving those un¬ 
 acquainted with the language of the 
 original, some tolerably accurate idea 
 of Messer Bernardo’s euphuisms. 
 
 “ Proud rock! the loved retreat of such a band 
 
 Of earth’s best, noblest, greatest, that their light 
 Pales other glories to the dazzled sight, 
 
 And like a beacon shines throughout the land, 
 
 If truest worth can reach the perfect state, 
 
 And man may hope to merit heavenly rest, 
 
 Those whom thou harborest in thy rocky breast, 
 First in the race will reach the heavenly gate. 
 
 Glory of martial deeds is thine. In thee, 
 
 Brightest the world e’er saw, or heaven gave, 
 Dwell chastest beauty, worth, and courtesy ! 
 
 Well be it with thee! May both wind and sea 
 Respect thee : and thy native air and wave 
 Be temper’d ever by a genial sky! ” 
 
 Such is the poetry of one of the 
 
Vittorio, 0olonna. 
 
 89 
 
 brightest stars of the Ischian galaxy ; 
 and the incredulous reader is assured 
 that it would be easy to find much 
 worse sonnets b} T the ream, among the 
 extant productions of the crowd, who 
 were afflicted with the prevalent Pe¬ 
 trarch mania of that epoch. The statis¬ 
 tical returns of the ravages of this 
 malady, given by the poetical registrar- 
 general Crescimbeni, would astonish 
 even Paternoster Pow at the present 
 day. But Vittoria Colonna, though a 
 great number of her sonnets do not rise 
 above the level of Bernardo Tasso in 
 the foregoing specimen, could occasion¬ 
 ally, especially in her later years, reach 
 a much higher tone, as will, it is hoped, 
 be shown in a future chapter. 
 
 It has been suggested, that the re¬ 
 ligious feelings which inspired her lat¬ 
 ter poetry, were, though not more 
 genuine, yet more absorbing than the 
 conjugal love, which is almost exclu 
 8 * 
 
90 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 sively the theme of her earlier efforts. 
 And it is at all events certain, that the 
 former so engrossed her whole mind, 
 as to sever her in a great measure from 
 the world. This the so fervently sung 
 pangs of separation from her husband 
 do not appear to have effected. 
 
 Besides the constant society of the 
 select few, of whom mention has been 
 made, there were occasionally gayer 
 doings in Ischia ; as when in February, 
 1517, a brilliant festival w T as held there 
 on occasion of the marriage 1 of Don 
 Alfonso Piccoloinini with Costanza 
 d’Avalos, the sister of Vittoria’s pupil, 
 the Marchese del Vasto. And occa¬ 
 sionally the gentle poetess, necessitated 
 probably by the exigencies of her social 
 position, would leave her beloved 
 Ischia for brilliant and noisy Naples. 
 And when these necessities did occur, 
 it is recorded, that the magnificence 
 
 1 Passeri, p. 234. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 91 
 
 and pomp, with which the beautiful 
 young wife made her appearance 
 among her fellow nobles, was such, as 
 few of them could equal, and none sur¬ 
 pass. 
 
 One of these occasions is worth 
 specially noting, for the sake of the de¬ 
 tailed account, which has been preserv¬ 
 ed of it by that humble and observant 
 chronicler, our friend the weaver. For 
 it contains traits and indications, curi¬ 
 ously and amusingly illustrative of the 
 life and manners of that time in Naples. 
 
 It was December 6, 1517, and high 
 festival was to be held for the marriage 
 of the King of Poland with Donna 
 Bona Sforza. The guests comprised 
 the whole nobility of Naples; and 
 worthy Passeri begins his account with 
 an accurate Morning-Post-like state¬ 
 ment of the costume of each in the 
 order of their arrival at the church. 
 Doubtless the eager weaver, a shrewd 
 
92 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 judge of such matters, had pushed him¬ 
 self into a good place iu the front row 
 of the crowd, who lined the roadway 
 of the noble guests, and might have 
 been seen with tablets in hand, taking 
 notes with busy excitement to be trans¬ 
 ferred to his journal at night. One 
 after another the high-sounding titles, 
 very many of them Spanish, are set 
 forth, as they swept by, brilliant with 
 gold and every brightest tint of costly 
 fabric, and are swallowed up by the 
 dark nave of the huge church. 
 
 It is not necessary to attempt a trans¬ 
 lation of all the changes Master Passeri 
 rings on velvet, satin, gold, brocade, 
 and costly furs. Merely noting that 
 the bride’s dress is estimated to be 
 worth seven thousand ducats, we let 
 them all pass on till “The illustrious 
 lady the Signora Vittoria, Marchioness 
 of Pescara,” arrives. She is mounted 
 on a black and white jennet, with lions- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 93 
 
 ings of crimson velvet, fringed with 
 gold. She is accompanied by six ladies 
 in waiting, uniformly clad in azure 
 damask, and attended by six grooms on 
 foot, with cloaks and jerkins of blue 
 and yellow satin. The lady herself 
 wears a robe of brocaded crimson vel¬ 
 vet, with large brandies of beaten gold 
 on it. She lias a crimson satin cap, 
 with a head-dress of wrought gold 
 above it; and around her waist is a 
 girdle of beaten gold. 
 
 Some of the assembled company, one 
 might think, would require their gir¬ 
 dles to be of some more yielding mate¬ 
 rial. For, on quitting the church, they 
 sat down to table at six in the evening, 
 “ and began to eat,” says Passeri, “ and 
 left off at live in the morning! ” The 
 order and materials of this more than 
 Homeric feast, are handed down to 
 posterity with scrupulous accuracy by 
 our chronicler. But the stupendous 
 
94 
 
 Vittoria Colontia. 
 
 menu, in its entirety, would be almost 
 as intolerable to the reader, as having 
 to sit out the eleven hours’ orgy in per¬ 
 son. A few particulars culled here 
 and there, partly because they are 
 curious, and partly because the mean¬ 
 ing of the words is more intelligible 
 than is the case in many instances, 
 even to a Neapolitan of the present 
 day, will amply suffice. 
 
 There were twenty-seven courses. 
 Then the quantity of sugar used, was 
 made, as we have noticed on a former 
 occasion at Rome, a special subject 
 of glorification. There was “puttagio 
 r Jngarese,” Hungary soup, stuffed pea¬ 
 cocks, quince pies, and thrushes served 
 with bergamottes, which were not 
 pears, as an English reader might per¬ 
 haps suppose, but small highly scented 
 citrons, of the kind, from which the 
 perfume of that name is, or is suppos¬ 
 ed, to be made. With the “ bianco 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 95 
 
 mangiare,” our familiarity with “ blanc¬ 
 mange,” seems at first sight to make 
 us more at home. But we are thrown 
 out by finding, that it was eaten in 
 1517, “ con mostarda.” The dishes of 
 pastry seem according to our habits, 
 much out of proportion to the rest. 
 Sweet preparations also, whether of 
 animal or vegetable composition, seem 
 greatly to preponderate. At the 
 queen’s own table, a fountain gave 
 forth odoriferous waters. But, to all 
 the guests, perfumed water for the 
 hands was served at the removal of the 
 first tables. 
 
 “And thus having passed this first 
 day with infinite delight,’’the whole 
 party passed a second, and a third, in 
 the same manner ! 
 
 That eleven hours should have been 
 spent in eating and drinking is of course 
 simply impossible. Large interludes 
 must be supposed to have been occupied 
 
96 
 
 Vittoria Colonna . 
 
 by music, and very likely by recita¬ 
 tions of poetry. On the first day a 
 considerable time must have been 
 taken up by a part of the ceremonial, 
 which was doubtless far more interest¬ 
 ing to the fairer half of the assembly 
 than the endless gormandising. This 
 was a display, article by article, of the 
 bride’s trousseau, which took place 
 while the guests were still sitting at 
 table. Passeri minutely catalogues the 
 whole exhibition. The list begins with 
 twenty pairs of sheets, all embroidered 
 with different colored silks ; and seven 
 pairs of sheets, “ d’olanda,” of Dutch 
 linen, fringed with gold. Then come 
 an hundred and five shirts of Dutch 
 linen, all embroidered with silk of di¬ 
 vers colors; and seventeen shirts of 
 cambric, “ cambraia,” with a selvage of 
 gold, as a present for the royal bride¬ 
 groom. There were twelve head-dress¬ 
 es, and six ditto, ornamented with gold 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 97 
 
 and colored silk, for his majesty ; an 
 hundred and twenty handkerchiefs, 
 embroidered with gold cord ; ninety- 
 six caps, ornamented with gold and 
 silk, of which thirty-six were for the 
 king. There were eighteen counter¬ 
 panes of silk, one of which was 
 wrought “ alia inoresca ; ” forty-eight 
 sets of stamped leather hangings, thirty- 
 six others “ of the ostrich egg pattern,” 
 sixteen “ of the artichoke pattern,” and 
 thirty-six of silk tapestry. Beside all 
 these hundred sets, there were eight 
 large pieces of Flanders arras, “ con seta 
 assai.” They represented the seven 
 works of mercy, and were valued at a 
 thousand golden ducats. There w r as a 
 litter, carved and gilt, with its four 
 mattrasses of blue embroidered satin. 
 Passing on to the plate department, 
 we have a silver w T aiter, two large 
 pitchers wrouglft in relief, three basins, 
 an ewer, and six large cups, twelve 
 
98 
 
 I T ittoria Colonna. 
 
 large plates, twelve ditto of second size, 
 and twenty-four soup plates made 
 “ alia franzese,” a massive salt-cellar, a 
 box of napkins, spoons, and jugs, four 
 large candlesticks, two large flasks, a 
 silver pail, and cup of gold worth two 
 hundred ducats for the king’s use. 
 Then for the chapel, a furniture for the 
 altar, with the history of the three kings 
 embroidered in gold on black velvet; 
 a missal on parchment, with illuminated 
 miniatures, bound in velvet ornament¬ 
 ed with silver clasps and bosses ; and 
 a complete set of requisites for the ser¬ 
 vice in silver. Then, returning to the 
 personal department, came twenty-one 
 gowns, each minutely described, and 
 one of blue satin spangled with bees in 
 solid gold, particularly specified as be¬ 
 ing worth four thousand ducats. 
 
 When all this and much more had 
 been duly admired, tlieje were brought 
 forward an empty casket and fifteen 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 99 
 
 travs, in which were an hundred thou¬ 
 sand ducats of gold, which were put 
 into the casket u before all the Signori.” 
 But our chronicler is compelled by 
 his love of truth to add reluctantly 
 that there w T ere several false ducats 
 among them . 1 
 
 It is evident from the nature of many 
 of the articles in the above list, that 
 this “ trousseau ” was not merely a 
 bride’s fitting out purchased for the 
 occasion, but was a collection of all 
 the Lady Bona’s chattel property, and 
 represented, as was then usually the 
 case with all wealthy persons, a very 
 large, if not the principal part, of the 
 worldly goods. 
 
 It may well be imagined, that 
 Yittoria was not sorry to return to the 
 quiet and intellectual society of Ischia 
 after these tremendous three days at 
 Naples. There she was cheered from 
 
 1 See Note 2. 
 
100 
 
 'Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 time to time by three or four sliort visits 
 from her husband ; and by continual 
 tidings of his increasing reputation and 
 advancement in dignity and wealth ; a 
 prosperity which she considered dearly 
 purchased by his almost continual 
 absence. The death of her father 
 Fabrizio in March, 1520, and that of 
 her mother in 1522, made her feel more 
 poignantly this loneliness of heart. 
 
 In October of 1522, Pescara made a 
 flying visit to his wife and home. ITe 
 was with her three days only, and then 
 hastened back to the army. It was the 
 last time she ever saw him. His career 
 with the armv meantime was very 
 glorious. In May, 1522, he took and 
 sacked Genoa ; “ con la maggior crode- 
 litate de lo mundo, ” writes admiring 
 Passeri. The plundering lasted a day 
 and a half; and “ da che lo mundo fo 
 mundo, ” never was seen a sacking of 
 so great riches, “ for there was not a 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 101 
 
 single solder who did not at the least 
 get a thousand ducats.” Then, with 
 the year 1525 came, on the 24th of 
 February, the memorable day of Pavia, 
 which was so glorious that, as Pas- 
 seri writes, the desolation inflicted by 
 it on the country around was such, 
 that neither house, tree, nor vine was 
 to be seen for miles. All was burned. 
 Few living creatures were to be met 
 with, and those subsisting miserably 
 on roots. 
 
 Hie result of that u field of honor ” is 
 sufficiently well known. Pescara, who 
 received three wounds, though none of 
 them serious, in the battle, considered 
 that he was ill-used, when the royal 
 captive Francis was taken out of his 
 hands to Spain, and made complaints 
 on the subject to his master Charles Y, 
 who had succeeded Ferdinand on the 
 thrones of Spain and Naples in 1516. 
 He was now, however, at the age of 
 9* 
 
102 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 thirty-five, general-in-chief for that 
 monarch in Lombardy, and enjoyed his 
 perfect confidence, when circumstan¬ 
 ces arose calculated to try his fidelity 
 severely. Whether that, almost the 
 only virtue recognized, honored, and 
 professed by his own class at that day, 
 remained altogether intact and un¬ 
 blemished is doubtful. But it is cer¬ 
 tain, that in any view of the case, his 
 conduct was such as would consign 
 him to utter infamy in any somewhat 
 more morally enlightened age than his 
 own, and such as any noble-hearted 
 man, however untaught, would have 
 instinctively shrunk from even then. 
 
 The circumstances briefly were as 
 follows :— 
 
 Clement VII, who had succeed¬ 
 ed to the Popedom in 1523, had, after 
 much trimming and vacillation be¬ 
 tween Francis I and Charles V, be¬ 
 come, like the rest of Italy, exceed- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 103 
 
 ingly alarmed at the preponderating 
 power of Charles, after the discomfiture 
 of the French at Pavia. Now the dis¬ 
 content of Pescara, mentioned above, 
 being notorious, the Pope and his 
 counsellors, especially Giberti, Bishop 
 of Verona, and Morone, Chancellor 
 and Prime Minister of the Duke of 
 Milan, thought that it might not be 
 impossible to induce him to turn traitor 
 to Charles, and make use of the army 
 under his command to crush once and 
 for ever the Spanish power in Italy. 
 The prime mover and agent in this 
 conspiracy was Morone, who had the 
 reputation of being one of the pro- 
 foundest and most far-sighted statesmen 
 of his day. Guicciardini 1 has record¬ 
 ed, that he (the historian) had often 
 heard Morone declare, that there did 
 not exist a worse or more faithless man 
 in all Italy than Pescara. The conspir- 
 
 1 1st. Ital., lib. xvi. cap. i. 
 
104 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 ing Chancellor, therefore, being em¬ 
 powered by the Pope to promise the 
 malcontent general the throne of Na¬ 
 ples as the price of his treason, thought 
 that he might well venture to make the 
 proposal. 
 
 Pescara received his overtures favor¬ 
 ably, saying, that if he could be satisfied 
 that what was proposed to him could be 
 done without injury to his h nor , he 
 would willingly undertake it, and ac¬ 
 cept the reward offered to him. 1 Up¬ 
 on this reply being communicated to 
 the Pope, a couple of cardinals forth¬ 
 with wrote to the Marchese, assuring 
 him that the treason required of him 
 was, “ according to the dispositions and 
 ordinances of the laws, civil as well as 
 canon,” 2 perfectly consistent with the 
 nicest honor. Meanwhile, however, it 
 chanced, that one Messer Gfismondo 
 
 1 Varchi, Storia Fiorentina, vol. i. p. 88, edit. Firenze, 1843. 
 
 2 Varchi, p. 89. 
 
105 
 
 „ Vi t tori a C olonna. 
 
 Santi, who had been sent by the con¬ 
 spirators with letters on the subject 
 into France or Switzerland, was mur¬ 
 dered tor the purpose of robbery, by 
 an innkeeper with whom he lodged at 
 Bergamo, and was buried under the 
 stair-case, as was discovered some years 
 afterwards. And as no tidings were 
 heard of this messenger, all engaged in 
 the plot, and Pescara among them, 
 suspected that he had been waylaid 
 lor the sake of his dispatches, and that 
 thus all was probably made known to 
 Charles. Thereupon Pescara imme¬ 
 diately wrote to the Emperor, reveal¬ 
 ing the whole conspiracy, and declaring 
 that he had given ear to their proposals 
 only for the purpose of obtaining full 
 information of the conspirators’ designs. 
 
 Such is the version of the story given 
 by Varchi, probably the most trust¬ 
 worthy of all the numerous contempo¬ 
 rary historians. He adds, “ it is not un- 
 
106 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. • 
 
 known to me, that many say, and per¬ 
 haps think, that the Marchese, acting 
 loyally from the beginning, had all 
 along given the Emperor true informa¬ 
 tion of every thing; all which I, for 
 my part, knowing nothing further than 
 what I have said, will not undertake 
 to deny. It would, indeed, be agree¬ 
 able to me to believe that it was so, 
 rather than that the character of so 
 great a soldier should be stained with 
 so foul a blot. Though, indeed, I 
 know not what sort of loyalty or sin¬ 
 cerity that may be, which consists in 
 having deceived and betrayed by vile 
 trickery and fraud a Pope, who, if 
 nothing else, was at least very friendly 
 to him, a republic such as that of Yen- 
 ice, and many other personages, for 
 the sake of acquiring favor with his 
 master. This I know well, that the 
 lady Yittoria Colonna, his wife, a 
 woman of the highest character, and 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 107 
 
 abounding in all the virtues which can 
 adorn her sex, had no sooner heard of 
 the intrigue on foot, than, wholly un¬ 
 tempted by the brilliant hope hung out 
 to her, she with infinite sorrow and 
 anxiety wrote most warmly to her 
 husband, urging him to bethink him of 
 his hitherto unstained character, and to 
 weigh well what he was about, assuring 
 him that as far as she was concerned, 
 she had no wish to be the wife of a kins:, 
 but only of a loyal and upright man. ’’ 
 This letter from Vittoria, urging her 
 husband not to be seduced to swerve 
 from the path of honor and duty, is 
 recorded by most of the writers; and 
 Visconti asserts, that it was the means 
 of inducing Pescara to abandon the 
 idea of betraying his sovereign. At all 
 events, the existence of such a letter is 
 very strong evidence that Pescara had 
 not from the first informed Charles of the 
 plot, but had at least hesitated whether 
 
108 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 he should not join in it, inasmuch as 
 his communications to her upon the 
 subject had given her reason to tear 
 lest he should do so. 
 
 On the other hand, it is fair to ob¬ 
 serve, that several ot those concerned 
 in tli * intrigue saw reason to suspect 
 the possibility of Pescara’s having 
 from the first listened to their overtures 
 only to betray them; as is proved by ex¬ 
 tant letters from one to another of them. 1 
 
 Perhaps this, too, was consistent 
 with the nicest honor, as defined u by 
 the ordinances of canon and civil 
 law.” But whether he were a traitor 
 to his king or not, h * was determined 
 to shrink from no depth of treachery 
 toward liis dupes, that could serve to 
 ingratiate him with his master. While 
 still feigning to accede to their propos¬ 
 als, lie sent to Morone to come to him 
 
 i Lettere de Principi, vol. i. p. 87. See Letters from 
 Giberto to Gismondo Santo, and to Domenico Sanli. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 109 
 
 at Novara, that all might be arranged 
 between them. Morone, against the 
 advice of many of his friends, and, as 
 Guicciardini thought, 1 with a degree 
 of imprudence astonishing in so practis¬ 
 ed and experienced a man, went to the 
 meeting. He was received in the most 
 cordial manner by Pescara, who, as 
 soon as they were alone together, led 
 him to speak of all the details of the 
 proposed plan. The trap was com¬ 
 plete ; for behind the hangings of the 
 room in which they were sitting, he 
 had hidden Antonio da Leyva, one of 
 the generals of the Spanish army, who 
 arrested . him as he was quitting the 
 house, and took him to the prison of 
 Novara, where Pescara the next day 
 had the brazen audacity to examine as 
 a judge the man whom a few hours 
 previously he had talked with as an 
 accomplice. 2 
 
 1 Storia, lib. xvii. chap. iv. 3 Guicciardini, lib. xvii. chap. iv. 
 
 10 
 
110 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 Surely, whichever version of the 
 story may be believed, as to Pescara’s 
 original intentions, there is enough 
 here in evidence to go far towards jus¬ 
 tifying Chancellor Morone’s opinion, 
 that he was one of the worst and 
 most faithless men in Italy. Some 
 modern Italian writers, with little mor¬ 
 al, and less historical knowledge, have 
 rested the gravamen of the charge 
 against him on his want of patriotic 
 Italian feeling on the occasion. In the 
 first place, no such motive, however 
 laudable in itself, could have justified 
 him in being guilty of the treason pro¬ 
 posed to him. In the second place, 
 the class of ideas in question can hard¬ 
 ly be found to have had any existence 
 at that period, although distinct traces 
 of such may be met with in Italian his¬ 
 tory 200 years earlier. Certainly the 
 Venetian Senate were not actuated bv 
 
 V 
 
 any such ; and still more absurd would 
 
"Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 Ill 
 
 it be to attribute them to Pope Cle¬ 
 ment. It is possible that Morone, 
 and perhaps still more, Giberti, may 
 not have been untinctured by them. 
 
 But Pescara was one of the last men, 
 even had he been as high-minded as 
 we find him to have been the reverse, 
 in whom to look for Italian “fuori i 
 barbari ” enthusiasm. Of noble Span¬ 
 ish blood, his family had always been 
 the counsellors, friends, and close ad¬ 
 herents of a Spanish dynasty at Naples, 
 and the man himself was especially 
 Spanish in all his sympathies and ideas. 
 u He adopted,” 1 says Giovio, “ in 
 all his costume the Spanish fashion, 
 and always preferred to speak in that 
 language to such a degree, that with 
 Italians, and even with Vittoria his 
 wife, he talked Spanish.” And else¬ 
 where he is said to have been in the 
 habit of expressing his regret that he 
 was not born a Spaniard. 
 
 1 Vita. lib. 1. 
 
112 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 Such habits and sentiments would 
 have been painful enough to a wife, a 
 Roman and a Colonna, if Vittoria had 
 been sufficiently in advance of her 
 age to have conceived patriotic ideas 
 of Italian nationality. But though 
 her pursuits and studies were infinitely 
 more likely to have led her mind to such 
 thoughts, than were those of the actors 
 in the political drama of the time to 
 generate any such notions in them, yet 
 no trace of any sentiment of the kind is 
 to be found in her writings. Consid¬ 
 ering the extent of the field over which 
 her mind had travelled, her acquaint¬ 
 ance with classical literature, and with 
 the history of her own country, it may 
 seem surprising that a nature, certainly 
 capable of high and noble aspirations, 
 should have remained untouched by 
 one of the noblest. That it was so is a 
 striking proof of the utter insensibility 
 Df the age to any feelings of the sort. 
 
T it tori a C ol onna. 
 
 113 
 
 It is possible, too, that the tendencies 
 and modes ol thought of her husband on 
 the subject of Italy may have exercised 
 a repressing influence in this respect 
 on Vittoria’s mind; for who does not 
 know T how powerfully a woman’s intel¬ 
 ligence and heart may be elevated or 
 degraded by the nature of the object 
 of her affections; and, doubtless, to 
 Vittoria as to so many another of every 
 age do the admirable lines of the poet 
 address themselves :— 
 
 “ Thou shalt lower to his level day by day, 
 What is fine within thee growing coarse to sympathize 
 with clay. 
 
 As the husband is, the wife is ; thou art mated with a 
 clown, 
 
 And the grossness of his nature will have weight to 
 drag thee down.” 
 
 When we come to examine the tone 
 of sentiment prevailing in Vittoria’s 
 poetry, other indications of this dete¬ 
 riorating influence will be perceptible, 
 10 * 
 
114 
 
 ~Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 and if much of nobleness, purity, high 
 aspiration be nevertheless still found in 
 her, this partial immunity from the 
 evil influence must be attributed to 
 the trifling duration of that portion of 
 her life passed in her husband’s com¬ 
 pany. 
 
 Pescara was not unrewarded for the 
 infamy with which he covered himself 
 in the service of his master. He ob¬ 
 tained the rank of Generalissimo of 
 the imperial forces in Italy. But he 
 enjoyed the gratification for a very 
 little while. In the latter end of that 
 year, he fell into a state of health which 
 seems to have been not well accounted 
 for by the medical science of that 
 day. The wounds he had received at 
 Pavia in the previous February, are 
 specially described by Passeri as hav¬ 
 ing been very slight. Some writers 
 have supposed that either shame for 
 the part he had acted in the Morone 
 
VMtoria Colonna. 
 
 115 
 
 affair; or, with greater probability, 
 misgiving as to the possibility of the 
 Emperor’s discovering the real truth of 
 the facts, (for the fate of Gismondo 
 Santi and his papers was not known 
 yet), was the real cause of his illness. 
 It seems clearly to have been of the na¬ 
 ture of a sudden and premature decay 
 of all the vital forces. 
 
 Towards the end of the year he aban¬ 
 doned all hope of recovery, and sent 
 to his wife to desire her to come to him 
 with all speed. He was then at Milan. 
 She set out instantly on her painful 
 journey, and had reached Viterbo on 
 her way northwards, when she was met 
 by the news of his death. 
 
 It took place on the 25tli of Novem¬ 
 ber, 1525. He was buried on the 30th 
 of that month, says Giovio, at Milan ; 
 but the body was shortly afterwards 
 transported with great pomp and mag¬ 
 nificence to Naples. 
 
1J 6 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Vittoria, % Widow, with the Nuns of San Silvestro.—Re¬ 
 turns to Ischia.—Her Poetry divisible into two classes.— 
 Specimens of her Sonnets.—They rapidly attain celebrity 
 throughout Italy.—Vittoria’s sentiments towards her Hus¬ 
 band.—Her unblemished Character.—Platonic Love.—The 
 Love Poetry of the Sixteenth Century. 
 
 Vittoria became thus a widow in the 
 thirty-sixth year of* her age. She was 
 still in the full pride of her beauty, as 
 contemporary writers assert, and as two 
 extant medals, struck at Milan shortly 
 before her husband’s death, attest. One 
 of them presents the bust of Pescara on 
 the obverse, and that of Vittoria on the 
 reverse ; the other has the same por- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 ii 7 
 
 trait of her on the obverse, and a mili¬ 
 tary trophy on the reverse. The face 
 represented is a very beautiful one, and 
 seen thus in profile is perhaps more 
 pleasing than the portrait, which has 
 been spoken of in a previous chapter. 
 She was moreover even now probably 
 the most celebrated woman in Italy, 
 although she had done little as yet to 
 achieve that immense reputation which 
 awaited her a few years later. Very 
 few probably of her sonnets were writ¬ 
 ten before the death of her husband. 
 
 But the exalted rank and prominent 
 position of her own family, the high 
 military grade and reputation of her 
 husband, the wide-spread hopes and 
 fears of which he had recently been the 
 centre in the affair of the conspiracy, join¬ 
 ed to the fame of her talents, learning, 
 and virtues, which had been made the 
 subject of enthusiastic praise by nearly 
 all the Ischia knot of poets and wits, 
 
118 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 rendered her a very conspicuous person 
 in the eyes of all Italy. Her husband’s 
 premature and unexpected death add¬ 
 ed a source of interest of yet another 
 kind to her person. A young, beautiful, 
 and very wealthy widow, gave rise to 
 quite as many hopes, speculations, and 
 designs in the sixteenth century as in 
 any other. 
 
 But \^ittoria’s first feeling, on receiv¬ 
 ing that fatal message at Viterbo, was, 
 that she could never again face that 
 world, which was so ready to open its 
 arms to her. Escape from the world, 
 solitude, a cell, whose walls should re¬ 
 semble, as nearly as might be, those of 
 the grave, since that asylum was denied 
 to her, was her only wish. And she 
 hastened, stunned by her great grief, 
 to Rome, with the intention of throwing 
 herself into a cloister. The convent of 
 San Silvestro in Capite—so called from 
 the supposed possession by the com- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 119 
 
 nmnity of the Baptist’s head—had al¬ 
 ways been a special object of venera¬ 
 tion to the Colonna family; and there 
 she sought a retreat. Her many friends, 
 well knowing the desperation of her 
 affliction, feared, that acting under the 
 spur of its first violence, she would take 
 the irrevocable step of pronouncing the 
 vows. That a Vittoria Colonna should 
 be so lost to the world was not to he 
 thought of. So Jacopo Sadoleto, Bishop 
 of Carpentras, and afterwards made a 
 cardinal by Pope Paul III, one of the 
 most learned men of his day, himself a 
 poet, and an intimate friend of Vittoria, 
 hastened to Pope Clement, whose sec¬ 
 retary he was at the time, and obtained 
 from him a brief addressed to the ab¬ 
 bess and nuns of San Silvestro, enjoin¬ 
 ing them to receive into their lions 
 and console to the best of their ability 
 the Marcliesana di Pescara, “ omnibin 
 spiritualibus et temporalibus consola- 
 
120 
 
 'Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 tionibus,” but forbidding them, under 
 pain of the greater excommunication, 
 to permit her to take the veil, u impetu 
 potius sui doloris, quam maturo consilio 
 circa mutationem vestium vidualiumin 
 monasticas.” 
 
 This brief is dated the 7th December, 
 1525. 
 
 She remained with the sisters of San 
 Silvestro till the autumn of the follow¬ 
 ing year ; and would have further de¬ 
 ferred returning into a world which the 
 conditions of the times made less than 
 ever tempting to her, had not her 
 brother Ascanio, now her only remain¬ 
 ing natural protector, taken her from 
 the convent to Marino, in consequence 
 ol the Colonna clan being once again 
 at war with the Pope, as partisans of 
 the Emperor. 
 
 On the 20th of September, 1526, this 
 ever turbulent family raised a tumult 
 in Rome to the cry of “ Imperio ! Im- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 121 
 
 perio ! Liberta ! Liberia ! Colonna ! 
 Colonna!” and sacked the Vatican, 
 and every bouse belonging to the Or- 
 sini the old clan hatred showing itself 
 as usual on every pretext and opportu¬ 
 nity. 
 
 The result was a papal decree, de¬ 
 priving Cardinal Colonna of his hat; 
 and declaring confiscated all the estates 
 of the family. Deeply grieved by all 
 these excesses, both by the lawless 
 violence of her kinsmen, and by the 
 punishment incurred by them, she Left 
 Marino, and once more returned to the 
 retirement of Ischia in the beginning 
 of 1527. It was well for her that she 
 had decided on not remaining in or 
 near Rome during that fatal year. 
 While the eternal city and its neigh¬ 
 borhood were exposed to the untold 
 horrors and atrocities committed by the 
 
 1 Contemporary copy of the Act of Accusation, cited by 
 Visconti, p. ci. 
 
 11 
 
122 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 soldiers of the Most Catholic King, 
 Vittoria was safe in her island home, 
 torn indeed to the heart by the tidings 
 which reached her of the ruin and dis¬ 
 persion of many valued friends, but at 
 least tranquil and secure. 
 
 And now, if not perhaps while she 
 was still with the nuns of San Silves- 
 tro, began her life as a poetess. She 
 had hitherto written but little, and oc¬ 
 casionally only. Henceforward, poeti¬ 
 cal composition seems to have made 
 the great occupation of her life. Vis¬ 
 conti, the latest, and by far the best 
 editor of her works, has divided them 
 into two portions. With two or three 
 unimportant exceptions, of which the 
 letter to her husband already noticed is 
 the most considerable, they consist en¬ 
 tirely of sonnets. The first of Signor 
 Visconti’s divisions, comprising 134 
 sonnets, includes those inspired almost 
 entirely by her grief for the loss of her 
 
I r itt oria Colonna. 
 
 123 
 
 husband. They form a nearly unin¬ 
 terrupted series “In Memoriam,” in 
 which the changes are rung with infi¬ 
 nite ingenuity on a very limited num¬ 
 ber of ideas, all turning on the glory 
 and high qualities of him whom she 
 had lost, and her own undiminished 
 and hopeless misery. 
 
 “ I only write to vent that inward pain, 
 
 On which my heart doth feed itself, nor wills 
 Aught other nourishment,” 
 
 begins the first of these elegiac sonnets ; 
 in which she goes on to disclaim any 
 idea of increasing her husband’s glory, 
 —“ non per giunger lume al mio bel 
 sole ; ” which is the phrase she uses in¬ 
 variably to designate him. This fancy 
 of alluding to Pescara always by the 
 same not very happily chosen meta¬ 
 phor, contributes an additional element 
 of monotony to verses still further de- 
 
124 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 prived of variety by the identity of 
 their highly artificial form. 
 
 This form, it is hardly necessary to 
 remark, more than any other mode of 
 the lyre, needs and exhibits the beau¬ 
 ties of accurate finish and neat polish. 
 Shut out, as it is, by its exceeding arti¬ 
 ficiality and difficult construction from 
 many of the higher beauties of more 
 spontaneous poetical utterance, the son¬ 
 net, “ totus, teres atque rotundus,” is 
 nothing if not elaborated to gem-like 
 perfection. 
 
 Yet Vittoria writes as follows :— 
 
 “ Se in man prender non soglio unqua la lima 
 Del buon giudicio, e ricercando intorno 
 Con occhio disdegnoso, io non adorno 
 Ne tergo la mia rozza incolta rima, 
 
 Nasce perche non e mia cura prima 
 Procacciar di cio lode, o fuggir scorno; 
 
 Ne che dopo il mio lieto al ciel ritorno 
 Viva ella al mondo in piu onorata stima. 
 
 Ma dal foco divin, che ’1 mio intelletto 
 Sua merce infiamma, convien che escan fuore 
 Mai mio grado talor queste faville. 
 
Vittor ia Colonna. 
 
 125 
 
 E se alcuna di loro un gentil core 
 Avvien che scaldi, mille volte e mille 
 Ringraziar debbo il mio felice errore.” 
 
 Which may be tints Englished with 
 tolerable accuracy of meaning, if not 
 with much poetical elegance . 1 
 
 “ If in these rude and artless songs of mine 
 I never take the file in hand, nor try 
 With curious care, and nice fastidious eye, 
 
 To deck and polish each uncultured line, 
 
 ’Tis that it makes small portion of my aim 
 
 To merit praise, or ’scape scorn’s blighting breath ; 
 Or that my verse, when I have welcomed death, 
 May live rewarded with the meed of fame. 
 
 But it must be that Heaven’s own gracious gift, 
 Which with its breath divine inspires my soul, 
 Strike forth these sparks, unbidden by my will. 
 And should one such but haply serve to lift 
 One gentle heart, I thankful reach my goal, 
 
 And, faulty tho’ the strain, my every wish fulfil.” 
 
 Again, in another sonnet, of which 
 the first eight lines are perhaps as fa¬ 
 vorable a specimen of a really poetical 
 image as can be found throughout her 
 
 1 Sec Note 3. 
 
 11 * 
 
126 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 writings, she repeats the same profes¬ 
 sion of “pouring an unpremeditated 
 lay.” 
 
 “ Qual digiuno augellin, che vede ed ode 
 Batter 1’ ali alia madre intorno, quando 
 Gli reca il nutrimento; ond egli amando 
 II cibo e quella, si rallegra e gode, 
 
 E dentro al nido suo si strugge e rode 
 Per desio di seguirla anch’ ei volando, 
 
 E la ringrazia in tal modo cantando, 
 
 Che par ch’ oltre ’1 poter la lingua snode; 
 
 Tal’ io qualor il caldo raggio e vivo 
 Del divin sole, onde nutrisco il core 
 Piu del usato lucido lampeggia, 
 
 Muovo la penna, spinta dall’ amore 
 Interno; e senza ch’ io stessa m’avveggia 
 Di quel ch’ io dico le sue lodi scrivo.” 
 
 Which in English runs pretty exact¬ 
 ly as follows: 
 
 “ Like to a hungry nestling bird, that hears 
 
 And sees the fluttering of his mother’s wings 
 Bearing him food, whence, loving what she brings 
 And her no less, a joyful mien he wears, 
 
 And struggles in the nest, and vainly stirs, 
 
 Wishful to follow her free wanderings, 
 
 And thanks her in such fashion, while he sings, 
 That the free voice beyond his strength appears; 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 12 1 
 
 So I, whene’er the warm and living glow 
 Of him my sun divine, that feeds my heart, 
 
 Shines brighter than its wont, take up the pen, 
 Urged by the force of my deep love; and so 
 Unconscious of the words unkempt by art 
 I write his praises o’er and o’er again.” 
 
 The reader conversant with Italian 
 poetry will have already seen enough 
 to make him aware, that the Colonna’s 
 compositions are by no means unkempt, 
 unpolished, or spontaneous. The merit 
 of them consists in the high degree, to 
 which they are exactly the reverse of 
 all this. They are ingenious, neat, 
 highly studied, elegant, and elaborate. 
 It may be true, indeed, that much 
 thought was not expended on the sub¬ 
 ject matter; but it was not spared on 
 the diction, versification, and form. 
 So much so, that many of her sonnets 
 were retouched, altered, improved, and 
 finally left to posterity, in a form very 
 different from that in which they were 
 first handed round the literary world 
 
128 
 
 I r ittoria Colonna. 
 
 of Italy . 1 The file, in truth, was con¬ 
 stantly in hand; though the nice fas¬ 
 tidious care bestowed in dressing out 
 with curious conceits a jejune or trite 
 thought, which won the enthusiastic 
 applause of her contemporaries, does 
 not to the modern reader compensate 
 for the absence of passion, earnestness, 
 and reality. 
 
 Then, again, the declaration of the 
 songstress of these would-be “ wood 
 notes wild,” that they make no preten¬ 
 sion to the meed of praise, nor care to 
 escape contempt, nor are inspired by 
 any hope of a life of fame after the 
 author’s death, leads us to contrast with 
 such professions the destiny that really 
 did,—surely not altogether unsought, 
 —await these grief-inspired utterances 
 of a breaking heart during the author’s 
 lifetime. 
 
 1 See advertisement “ai lettori” of Einaldo’s Corso’s 
 sdition of the sonnet. Venice, 155S. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 129 
 
 No sooner was each memory-born 
 pang illustrated by an ingenious meta¬ 
 phor, or pretty simile, packed neatly 
 in its regulation case of fourteen lines, 
 with their complexity of twofold rhymes 
 all right, than it was handed all over 
 Italy. Copies were as eagerly sought 
 for as the novel of the season at a 
 nineteenth-century circulating library. 
 Cardinals, bishops, poets, wits, diplo¬ 
 matists, passed them from one to an¬ 
 other, made them the subject of their 
 correspondence with each other, and 
 w r ith the fair mourner; and eagerly 
 looked out for the next poetical bonne- 
 bouche which her undying grief and 
 constancy to her “ bel sole ” should 
 send them. 
 
 The enthusiasm created by these 
 tuneful wailings of a young widow as 
 lovely as inconsolable, as irreproacha¬ 
 ble as noble, learned enough to corre¬ 
 spond with the most learned men of the 
 
130 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 day on their own subjects, and with all 
 this a Colonna, was intense. Yittoria 
 became speedily the most famous wo¬ 
 man of her day, was termed by univer¬ 
 sal consent “ the divine,” and lived to 
 see three editions of the grief-cries, 
 which escaped from her “ without her 
 will.” 
 
 Here is a sonnet, which was proba¬ 
 bly written at the time of her return to 
 Ischia in 1527; when the sight of all 
 the well-loved scenery of the home of 
 her happy years must have brought to 
 her mind Dante’s— 
 
 “ Nessun maggior dolore 
 Che ricordarsi del tempo felice 
 Nella miseria! ” 
 
 Yittoria looks back on the happy 
 time as follows :— 
 
 “ Oh! che tranquillo mar, oh che chiare onde 
 Solcava gia la mia spalmata barca, 
 
 Di ricca e nobil merce adorna e carca, 
 
 Con 1’ aer puro, e con 1’ aure seconde, 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 131 
 
 II ciel, ch’ora i bei vaghi lumi asconde 
 Porgea serena luce e d’ ombra scarca; 
 
 Ahi! quaiito ha da temer chi lieto varca! 
 Che non sempre al principio il fin risponde. 
 Ecco P empia e volubile fortuna 
 Scoperse poi P irata iniqua fronte, 
 
 Dal cui furor si gran proeella insorge. 
 Venti, pioggia, saette insieme aduna, 
 
 E fiere intorno a divorarmi pronte ; 
 
 Ma P alma an cor la fida stella scorge.” 
 
 In English, thus :— 
 
 ‘ On what smooth seas, on what clear waves did sail 
 My fresh careened bark! what costly freight 
 Of noble merchandise adorn’d its state! 
 
 How pure the breeze, how favoring the gale! 
 
 And Heaven, which now its beauteous rays doth veil. 
 Shone then serene and shadowless. But fate 
 For the too happy voyager lies in wait. 
 
 Oft fair beginnings in their endings fail. 
 
 And now doth impious changeful fortune bare 
 
 Her angry ruthless brow, whose threat’ning powei 
 Rouses the tempest, and lets loose its war! 
 
 But though rains, winds, and lightnings fill the air, 
 And wild beasts seek to rend me and devour, 
 
 Still shines o’er my true soul its faithful star.” 
 
 Bearing in mind what we have seen 
 of Pescara, it would seem evident, that 
 
132 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 some monstrous illusion with respect to 
 him must have obscured Vittoria’s 
 mind and judgment. It might have 
 been expected that she would have 
 been found attributing to him high and 
 noble qualities, which existed only in 
 her own imagination. But it is re¬ 
 markable that, though in general terms 
 she speaks of him as all that was no¬ 
 blest and greatest, yet in describing his 
 merits, she confines herself to the few 
 which he really had. This highly-cul¬ 
 tured, devout, thoughtful, intellectual 
 woman, seems really to have believed, 
 that a mercenary swordsman’s calling 
 was the noblest occupation earth could 
 ofier, and the successful following of it 
 the best preparation and surest title to 
 immortal happiness hereafter. 
 
 The following sonnet is one of many 
 expressing the same sentiments. 
 
 “ Alle Vittorie tue, mio lume eterno, 
 
 Non diede il tempo o la stagion fayore; 
 
Vittor ia Colonna. 
 
 133 
 
 La spada, la virtu, 1’ invitto core 
 Fur li ministri tuoi la state e’ verno. 
 
 Col prudente occhio, e col saggio governo 
 L’ altrui forze spezzasti in si brev’ ore, 
 Che ’1 modo all’ alte imprese accrebbe onore 
 Non men che 1’ opre al tuo valore interno. 
 Non tardaro il tuo corso animi altieri, 
 
 0 fiumi, o monti; e le maggior cittadi 
 Per cortesia od ardir rimasir vinte. 
 
 Salisti al mondo i piu pregiati gradi; 
 
 Or godi in ciel d’altri trionfi e veri, 
 
 D’ altre frondi le tempie ornate e cinte.” 
 
 Which may be Englished as fol¬ 
 lows :—• 
 
 “ To thy great victories, my eternal light, 
 
 Nor time, nor seasons, lent their favoring aid; 
 Thy sword, thy might, thy courage undismay’d, 
 Summer and winter serv’d thy will aright. 
 
 By thy wise governance and eagle sight, 
 
 Thou didst so rout the foe with headlong speed, 
 The manner of the doing crown’d the deed, 
 
 No less than did the deed display thv might. 
 Mountains and streams, and haughty souls in vain 
 Would check thy course. By force of courtesy 
 Or valor vanquish’d, cities of name were won. 
 Earth’s highest honors did thy worth attain; 
 
 Now truer triumphs Heaven reserves for thee, 
 And nobler garlands do thy temples crown.” 
 
 12 
 
134 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 Often her wishes for death are check¬ 
 ed by the consideration, that haply her 
 virtue may not suffice to enable her to 
 rejoin her husband in the mansions of 
 the blest. Take the the following ex¬ 
 ample :— 
 
 “ Quando del suo tormento il cor si duole 
 
 Si ch’ io bramo il mio fin, timor m’ assale, 
 
 E dice; il morir tosto a che ti vale 
 Si forse lungi vai dal tuo bel sole? 
 
 Da questa fredda tema nascer suole 
 Un caldo ardir, che pon d’ intorno 1’ ale 
 All alma; onde disgombra il mio mortale 
 Quanto ella pud, da quel ch’ 1 mondo vuole. 
 
 Cosi lo spirto mio s’ asconde e copre 
 Qui dal piacer uman, non gia per fama 
 0 van grido, o pregiar troppo se stesso; 
 
 Ma sente ’1 lume suo, che ognor lo chiama, 
 
 E vede il volto, ovunque mira, impresso, 
 
 Che gli misura i passi e scorge l’opre.” 
 
 Thus done into English :— 
 
 " When of its pangs my heart doth sore complain, 
 
 So that I long to die, fear falls on me, 
 
 And saith, what boots such early death to thee, 
 
 If far from thy bright sun thou should’st remain. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 135 
 
 Then oft from this cold fear is born again 
 A fervent boldness, which doth presently 
 Lend my soul wings, so that mortality 
 Strives to put off its worldly wishes vain. 
 
 For this, my spirit here herself enfolds, 
 
 And hides from human joys; and not for fame, 
 Nor empty praise, nor overblown conceit; 
 
 But that she hears her sun still call her name, 
 
 And still, where’er she looks, his face doth meet, 
 Who measures all her steps, and all her deeds be 
 holds.” 
 
 A similar cast of thought, both as re¬ 
 gards her own disgust of life and the 
 halo of sanctity, which by some mys¬ 
 terious process of mind she was able to 
 throw around her husband’s memory, 
 is found again in this, the last of the 
 sonnets, selected to illustrate this phase 
 of our poetess’s mind, and exemplify 
 the first division of her writings. 
 
 “ Cara union, che in si mirabil modo 
 Fosti ordinata dal signor del cielo, 
 
 Che lo spirto divino, e 1’ uman velo 
 Lego con dolce ed amoroso nodo, 
 
 Io, benchi lui di si bell’ opra lodo, 
 
 Pur cerco, e ad altri il mio pensier non celo, 
 
136 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 Sciorre il tuo laccio ; ni piti a caldo o gelo 
 Serbarti; poi che qui di te non godo. 
 
 Che 1’ alma chiusa in questo career rio 
 Come nemico l’odia ; onde smarrita 
 Ne vive qui, ne vola ove desia. 
 
 Quando sara con suo gran sole unita, 
 
 Felice giorno ! allor contenta fia; 
 
 Che sol nel river suo conobbe vita.” 
 
 Of which the subjoined rendering, 
 prosaic and crabbed as it is, is perhaps 
 hardly more so than the original. 
 
 “ Sweet bond, that wast ordain’d so wondrous well 
 By the Almighty ruler of the sky, 
 
 Who did unite in one sweet loving tie 
 The godlike spirit and its fleshy shell, 
 
 I, while I praise his loving work, yet try— 
 
 "Nor wish my thought from others to withhold— 
 To loose thy knot; nor more, through heat or cold, 
 Preserve thee, since in thee no joy have I. 
 
 Therefore my soul, shut in this dungeon stern, 
 Detests it as a foe; whence, all astray, 
 
 She lives not here, nor flies where she would go. 
 When to her glorious sun she shall return, 
 
 Ah! then content shall come with that blest day, 
 For she, but while he liv’d, a sense of life could 
 know.” 
 
 In considering the collection of 117 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 137 
 
 sonnets, from which the above speci 
 mens have been selected, and which 
 were probably the product of about 
 seven or eight years, from 1526 to 1533 
 —1 (in one she laments that the seventh 
 year from her husband’s death should 
 have brought with it no alleviation of 
 her grief); the most interesting ques¬ 
 tion that suggests itself, is,—whether 
 we are to suppose the sentiments ex¬ 
 pressed in them to be genuine outpour¬ 
 ings of the heart, or rather to consider 
 them all as part of the professional 
 equipment of a poet, earnest only in 
 the work of achieving a high and bril¬ 
 liant poetical reputation ? The question 
 is a prominent one, as regards the con¬ 
 crete notion to be formed of the six¬ 
 teenth-century woman, Yittoria Colon¬ 
 na ; and is not without interest as bear¬ 
 ing on the great subject of woman’s 
 nature. 
 
 Yittoria’s moral conduct, both as a 
 12 * 
 
138 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 wife and as a widow, was wholly irre 
 proacliable. A mass of concurrent con¬ 
 temporary testimony seems to leave 
 no doubt whatever on this point. More 
 than one of the poets of her day profess¬ 
 ed themselves her ardent admirers, 
 devoted slaves, and despairing lovers, 
 according to the most approved poeti¬ 
 cal and Platonic fashion of the time; 
 and she received their inflated bombast 
 not unpleased with the incense, and an¬ 
 swered them with other bombast, all en 
 regle^ and in character. The “ carte de 
 tendre ” was then laid down on the Pla¬ 
 tonic projection; and the sixteenth cen¬ 
 tury fashion in this respect was made a 
 convenient screen, for those to whom 
 a screen was needful, quite as frequent¬ 
 ly as the less classical whimsies of a 
 later period. But Platonic love to 
 Vittoria was merely an occasion for 
 indulging in the spiritualistic pedan¬ 
 tries, by which the classicists of that 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 139 
 
 day sought to link the infant meta¬ 
 physical speculations then beginning 
 to grow out of questions of church doc¬ 
 trine, with the ever-interesting subject 
 of romantic love. 
 
 A recent French writer, 1 having 
 translated into prose Vittoria’s poetical 
 epistle to her husband, adds that she 
 has been “ obliged to veil and soften 
 certain passages which might damage 
 the writer’s poetical character in the 
 eyes of her fair readers, by exhibiting 
 her as more woman than poet in the 
 ardent and ‘positive’ manner, in which 
 she speaks of her love.’’ Never was 
 there a more calumnious insinuation. 
 It is true indeed that the Frenchwoman 
 omits, or slurs over some passages of 
 the original, but as they are wholly 
 void of the shadow of offence, it can 
 only be supposed that the translator 
 
 1 Madame Lamaze, Etudes sur Trois Femmes CelSbres; 
 Saris, 1848, p. 41. 
 
140 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 did not understand the meaning of 
 them. 
 
 There is no word in Vittoria’s poetry 
 which can lead to any other conclusion 
 on this point, than that she was, in 
 her position and social rank, an exam¬ 
 ple, rare at that period, not only of 
 perfect regularity of conduct, but ot 
 great purity and considerable elevation 
 of mind. Such other indications as we 
 have of her moral nature are all favor¬ 
 able. We find her, uninfluenced by 
 the bitter hereditary hatreds of her 
 family, striving to act as peacemaker 
 between hostile factions, and weeping 
 over the mischiefs occasioned by their 
 struggles. We find her the constant 
 correspondent and valued friend of al¬ 
 most every good and great man of her 
 day. And if her scheme of moral doc¬ 
 trine, as gatherable from that portion 
 of her poems which we have not yet 
 examined, be narrow,—as how should 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 141 
 
 it be otherwise,—yet it is expressive 
 of a mind habitually under the influ¬ 
 ence ot virtuous aspiration, and is more 
 humanizing in its tendencies, than that 
 generally prevalent around her. 
 
 Such was Yittoria Col on n a. It has 
 been seen what her husband Pescara 
 was. And the question arises,—how far 
 can it be imagined possible that she 
 should not only have lavished on him to 
 the last while living, all the treasures 
 of an almost idolatrous affection ; not 
 only have looked back on his memory 
 after his death with fondness and chari¬ 
 table, even blindly charitable indul¬ 
 gence ; but should absolutely have so 
 canonized him in her imagination as to 
 have doubted of her own fitness to con¬ 
 sort hereafter with a soul so holy! It 
 may be said, that Yittoria did not know 
 her husband as we know him ; that the 
 few years they had passed together had 
 no doubt shown her only the better 
 
142 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 phases of his character. But she knew 
 that he had at least doubted whether 
 he should not be false to his sovereign, 
 and had been most infamously so to his 
 accomplices or dupes. She knew at 
 least all that Giovio’s narrative could 
 tell her ; for the bishop presented it to 
 her, and received a sonnet in return. 
 
 But it is one of the most beautiful 
 properties of woman’s nature, some 
 men say, that their love has power to 
 blind their judgment. Novelists and 
 poets are fond of representing women 
 whose affections remain unalterably 
 fixed on their object, despite the mani¬ 
 fest unworthiness of it; and set such 
 examples before us, as something high, 
 noble, admirable, “ beautiful; ” to the 
 considerable demoralization of their 
 confiding students of either sex. There 
 is a tendency in woman to refuse at all 
 risks the dethroning: of the sovereign 
 she has placed on her heart’s throne. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 143 
 
 The pain of deposing him is so great, 
 that she is tempted to abase her own 
 soul to escape it; for it is only at that 
 cost that it can be escaped. And the 
 spectacle of a fine nature “ dragged 
 down to sympathize with clay,’ 5 is 
 not u beautiful,” but exceedingly the 
 reverse. Men do not usually set forth 
 as worthy of admiration—though a 
 certain school of writers do even this, 
 in the trash talked of love at first sight 
 —that kind of love between the sexes, 
 which arises from causes wholly inde¬ 
 pendent of the higher part of our 
 nature. Yet it is that love alone which 
 can survive esteem. And it is highly 
 important to the destinies of woman, 
 that she should understand and be 
 thoroughly persuaded, that she cannot 
 love that which does not merit love, 
 without degrading her own nature ; 
 that under whatsoever circumstances 
 love should cease when respect, appro- 
 
144 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 bation, and esteem have come to an 
 end; and that those who find poetry 
 and beauty in the love which no moral 
 change in its object can kill, are simply 
 teaching her to attribute a fatally debas¬ 
 ing supremacy to those lower, instincts 
 of our nature, on whose due subordina¬ 
 tion to the diviner portion of our be¬ 
 ing all nobleness, all moral purity and 
 spiritual progress depends. 
 
 Vittoria Colonna was not one whose 
 intellectual and moral self had thus 
 abdicated its sceptre. The texture of 
 her mind and its habits of thought for¬ 
 bid the supposition; and, bearing this 
 in mind, it becomes wholly impossible 
 to accept the glorification of her “ bel 
 sole/’ which makes the staple of the 
 first half of her poems, as the sincere 
 expression of genuine feeling and opin¬ 
 ion. 
 
 She was probably about as much in 
 earnest as was her great model and 
 
Vittorio, Qolonna. 
 
 145 
 
 master, Petrarch, in his adoration of 
 Laura. The poetical mode of the day 
 was almost exclusively Petrarchist; 
 and the abounding Castalian fount of 
 that half century in u the land of 
 song,” played from its thousand jets 
 little else than Petrarch and water in 
 different degrees of dilution. Vittoria 
 has no claim to be excepted from the 
 “ servum pecus,” though her imitation 
 has more of self-derived vigor to sup¬ 
 port it. And this assumption of a 
 mighty, undying, exalted and hope¬ 
 less passion, was a necessary part of 
 the poet’s professional appurtenances. 
 Where could a young and beautiful 
 widow, of unblemished conduct, who 
 had no intention of changing her con¬ 
 dition, and no desire to risk miscon¬ 
 struction by the world, find this need¬ 
 ful part of her outfit as a poet, so un¬ 
 objectionable as in the memory of her 
 husband, sanctified and exalted by 
 13 
 
146 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 the imagination to the point proper for 
 the purpose. 
 
 For want of a deeper spiritual insight, 
 and a larger comprehension of the finer 
 affections of the human heart and the 
 manifestations of them, with the Ital¬ 
 ian poets of the “ renaissance,” love- 
 poetry was little else than the expres¬ 
 sion of passion in the most restricted 
 sense of the term. But they were 
 often desirous of elevating, purifying, 
 and spiritualizing their theme. And 
 how was this to be accomplished ? 
 The gratification of passion, such as they 
 painted, would, they felt, have led them 
 quite in a different direction from that 
 they were seeking. A hopeless passion, 
 therefore, one whose wishes the reader 
 was perfectly to understand were never 
 destined to be gratified—better still, 
 one by the nature of things impossible 
 to be gratified—this was the contrivance 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 147 
 
 by which love was to be poetized and 
 moralized. 
 
 The passion-poetry, which addressed 
 itself to the memory of one no more, 
 met the requirements of the case exact¬ 
 ly ; and Vittoria’s ten years’ despair 
 and lamentations, her apotheosis of the 
 late cavalry captain, and longing to 
 rejoin him, must be regarded as poeti¬ 
 cal properties brought out for use, 
 when she sat down to make poetry for 
 the perfectly self-conscious, though 
 very laudable purpose of acquiring for 
 herself a poet’s reputation. 
 
 But it must not be supposed that 
 any thing in the nature of hypocrisy 
 was involved in the assumption of the 
 poetical role of inconsolable widow. 
 Everybody understood that the poet¬ 
 ess was only making poetry, and say¬ 
 ing the usual and proper things for 
 that purpose. She was no more at¬ 
 tempting to impose on anybody than 
 
148 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 was a poet when on entering some 
 “ academia” he termed himself Tyrtseus 
 or Lycidas, instead of the name inher¬ 
 ited from his father. 
 
 And from this prevailing absence of 
 all real and genuine feeling, arises the 
 utter coldness and shallow insipidity of 
 the poets of that time and school. Lit¬ 
 erature has probably few more unread¬ 
 able departments than the productions 
 of the Petrarchists of the beginning of 
 the sixteenth century. 
 
 Vittoria, when she began to write on 
 religious subjects, was more in earnest; 
 and the result, as we shall see, is 
 accordingly improved. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 149 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Vittoria in Rome in 1530.—Antiquarian rambles.—Pyramus 
 and Thisbe medal.—Contemporary commentary on Vit- 
 toria’s poems.—Paul the Third.—Rome again in 1536.— 
 Visit to Lucca.—To Ferrara.—Protestant tendencies.—In¬ 
 vitation from G-iberto.—Return to Rome. 
 
 The noble rivalry of Francis I. and 
 Charles V. was again, in 1530, making 
 Naples a field of glory in such sort, 
 that outraged nature appeared also on 
 the scene with pestilence in her hand. 
 The first infliction had driven most of 
 the literary society in Naples to take 
 refuge in the comparative security of 
 Ischia. The latter calamity had reach¬ 
 ed even that retreat; and Vittoria some 
 time in that year again visited Rome. 
 
 13 * 
 
150 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 Life was beginning there to return 
 to its usual conditions after the tremen¬ 
 dous catastrophe of 1527. Pestilence 
 had there also, as usual, followed in the 
 train of war and military license. And 
 many in all classes had been its victims. 
 Great numbers fled from the city, and 
 among these were probably most of 
 such as were honored by Vittoria’s 
 personal friendship. Now they were 
 venturing back to their old haunts on 
 the Pincian, the Quirinal, or those fa¬ 
 vorite Colonna gardens, still ornament¬ 
 ed by the ruins of Aurelian’s Temple 
 to the Sun. The tide of modern Goths, 
 who had threatened to make the eternal 
 city’s name a mockery, had been swept 
 back at the word of that second and 
 u most Catholic ” Alaric, Charles V. 
 Cardinals, poetasters, wits, Ciceronian 
 bishops, statesmen, ambassadors, and. 
 artists, busy in the achievement of im¬ 
 mortality, were once more forming a 
 
 > 
 
T r it tori a Colonna . 
 
 151 
 
 society, which gave the Rome of that 
 day a fair title to be considered, in 
 some points of view, the capital of 
 the world. The golden Roman sun¬ 
 light was still glowing over aqueduct, 
 arch and temple ; and Rome the Eter¬ 
 nal was herself again. 
 
 By this varied and distinguished so¬ 
 ciety Yittoria was received with open 
 arms. The Colonna family had be¬ 
 come reconciled to Pope Clement, and 
 had had their fiefs restored to them ; so 
 that there was no cloud on the political 
 horizon to prevent the celebrated Mar- 
 chesana from receiving the homage of 
 all parties. The Marchese del Yasto, 
 Yittoria’s former pupil, for whom she 
 never ceased to feel the warmest affec¬ 
 tion, was. also then at Rome. 1 In his 
 company, and that of some others ot 
 the gifted knot around her, Yittoria 
 visited the ruins and vestiges of ancient 
 
 i Lettcre di Bembo, vol. i., p. 115, ed. 1560. 
 
152 
 
 Vittorio Colonna. 
 
 Rome with all the enthusiasm of one 
 deeply versed in classic lore, and 
 thoroughly imbued with the then pre¬ 
 vailing admiration for the works and 
 memorials of Pagan antiquity. Yittoria’s 
 sister-in-law, Donna Giovanna d’Ara- 
 gona, the beautiful and accomplished 
 wife of her brother Ascanio, in whose 
 house she seems to have been living 
 during this visit to Rome, was doubtless 
 one of the party on these occasions. 
 The poet Molza has chronicled his 
 presence among them in more than one 
 sonnet. His muse would seem to have 
 “ made increment of any thing.” For 
 no less than four sonnets 1 were the re¬ 
 sult of the exclamation from Yittoria, 
 “ Ah, happy they ’--the ancients, “ who 
 lived in days so full of beauty ! ” Of 
 course, various pretty things were ob¬ 
 tainable out of this. Among others, we 
 have the gallant Pagans responding to 
 
 1 Edit. Serassi, pp. 14,15,87, 40. 
 
I 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 153 
 
 the lady’s ejaculation, that on the con¬ 
 trary their time was less fortunate than 
 the present, in that it was not blessed 
 by the sight of her. 
 
 It would have been preferable to 
 have had preserved for us some further 
 scraps from the lips of Vittoria, while 
 the little party gazed at sunset over 
 that matchless view of the aqueduct- 
 bestridden Campagna from the terrace 
 at the western front of the Lateran, 
 looked up at the Colosseum, ghostly in 
 the moonlight, from the arch of Titus, 
 or discoursed on the marvellous pro¬ 
 portions of the Pantheon. 
 
 But history rarely guesses aright 
 what the after-ages she works for would 
 most thank her for handing down to 
 them. And we must be content to con¬ 
 struct for ourselves, as best we may, 
 from the stray hints we have, the sin¬ 
 gularly pleasing picture of these six¬ 
 teenth century rambles among the 
 
154 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 ruins of Rome by as remarkable a com¬ 
 pany of pilgrims as any of the thousands 
 who have since trodden in their steps. 
 
 Vittoria’s visit to Rome upon this 
 occasion was a short one. It was prob¬ 
 ably early in the following year that 
 she returned to Ischia. Signor Vis¬ 
 conti attributes this journey to the 
 restlessness arising from a heart ill at 
 ease, vainly hoping to find relief from 
 its misery by change of place. He as¬ 
 sumes all the expressions of despair to 
 be found in her sonnets of this period, 
 to be so many reliable autobiographical 
 documents, and builds his narrative 
 upon them accordingly. To this period 
 he attributes the sonnet, translated in a 
 previous chapter, in which the poetess 
 declares that she has no wish to conceal 
 from the world the temptation to sui¬ 
 cide which assails her. And in com¬ 
 memoration of this mood of mind, he 
 adds, in further proof of the sad truth, 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 155 
 
 a medal was struck upon this occasion, 
 in Rome of which he gives an engrav¬ 
 ing. It represents, on one-side, the in¬ 
 consolable lady as a handsome, well- 
 nourished, comfortable-looking widow, 
 in mourning weeds, more aged in ap¬ 
 pearance, certainly, since the striking 
 of the former medal spoken of, than 
 the lapse of seven years would seem 
 sufficient to account for. And, on the 
 reverse, is a representation of the mel¬ 
 ancholy story of Pyramus and Thisbe, 
 the former lying dead at the feet of the 
 typical paragon, who is pointing to¬ 
 wards her breast a sword, grasped in 
 both hands, half-way down the blade, 
 in a manner sure to have cut her fin¬ 
 gers. The two sides of the medal, 
 seen at one glance, as in Signor Vis¬ 
 conti’s engraving, are, it must be ad¬ 
 mitted, calculated to give rise to ideas 
 the reverse of pathetic. 
 
 To this period too belongs the sonnet, 
 
156 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 also previously alluded to, in which 
 Vittoria speaks of the seventh year of 
 her bereavement having arrived, with¬ 
 out bringing with it any mitigation of 
 her woe. Signor Visconti takes this 
 for simple autobiographical material. 
 It is curious, as a specimen of the 
 modes of thought at the time, to see 
 how the same passage is handled by 
 Vittoria’s first editor and commenta¬ 
 tor, Rinaldo Corsi, who published her 
 works for the second time at Venice in 
 1558. His commentary begins as fol¬ 
 lows :—“ On this sonnet, it remains for 
 me to speak of the number Seven as I 
 have done already of the number Four. 
 But since Varro, Macrobius, and Aulus 
 Gellius, together with many others, 
 have treated largely of the subject, I 
 will only add this,—which, perhaps, 
 Ladies, may appear to you somewhat 
 strange ; that, according to Hippocra¬ 
 tes, the number four enters twice into 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 157 
 
 the number seven ; and I find it stated 
 by most credible* authors as a certain 
 fact, and proved by the testimony of 
 their own observation, that a male child 
 of seven years old has been known to 
 cure persons atfiicted by the infirmity 
 called scrofula by no other means than 
 by the hidden virtue of that number 
 seven,” &c., &c., &c. 
 
 In this sort, Messer Rinaldo Corso 
 composed, and the literary ladies, to 
 whom throughout, as in the above pas¬ 
 sage, his labors are especially dedicated, 
 must be supposed to have read more 
 than five hundred close-printed pages 
 of commentary on the works of the 
 celebrated poetess, who, in all proba¬ 
 bility, when she penned the sonnet in 
 question, had no more intention of set¬ 
 ting forth the reasons for her return to 
 Ischia, than she had of alluding to the 
 occult properties of the mysterious 
 number seven. The natural supposition 
 14 
 
158 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 is, that as she had been driven from her 
 home by the pestilence, she returned 
 to it when that reason for absence was 
 at an end. 
 
 There she seems to have remained 
 tranquilly employed on her favorite 
 pursuits, increasing her already great 
 reputation, and corresponding assidu¬ 
 ously with all the best and most dis¬ 
 tinguished men of Italy, whether lay¬ 
 men or ecclesiastics, till the year 1536. 
 
 In that year she again visited Rome, 
 and resided during her stay there with 
 Donna Giovanna d’Aragona, her sister- 
 in-law. Raul III., Farnese, had in 1534 
 succeeded Clement in the chair of St. 
 Peter ; and though Paul was on many 
 accounts very far from being a good 
 Pope or a good priest, yet the Farnese 
 was an improvement on the Medici. 
 As ever, Rome began to show signs of 
 improvement when danger to her sys¬ 
 tem from without began to make itself 
 
Vitt oria Colonna . 
 
 159 
 
 felt. Paul seems very soon to have 
 become convinced that the general 
 council, which had been so haunting a 
 dread to Clement during the whole of 
 his pontificate, could no longer be 
 avoided. But it was still hoped in the 
 council chambers of the Vatican, that 
 the doctrinal difficulties of the German 
 reformers, which threatened the Church 
 with so fatal a schism, might be got 
 over by conciliation and dexterous 
 theological diplomacy. As soon as it 
 became evident that this hope was vain, 
 fear began to influence the papal policy, 
 and at its bidding the ferocious perse¬ 
 cuting bigotry of Paul IV. was con¬ 
 trasted with the shameless profligacy 
 of Alexander, the epicurean indiffer- 
 entism of Leo, and the pettifogging 
 worldliness of Clement. 
 
 Between these two periods came 
 Paul III., and the illusory hopes that 
 the crisis might be tided over by find- 
 
16& Vi ttoria Colonna. 
 
 ing some arrangement of terminology, 
 which should satisfy the reformers, 
 while Rome should abandon no particle 
 ot doctrine on which any vital portion 
 ol her system of temporal power was 
 based. To meet the exigencies of this 
 period, Paul III. signalized his acces¬ 
 sion by raising to the purple a number 
 of the most earnest, most learned, and 
 truly devout men in Italy. Contarini, 
 the Yenetian; Caraffa, from Naples; 
 Sadoleto, Bishop of Carpentras; Pole, 
 then a fugitive from England ; Giberti, 
 Bishop of Yerona ; and Fregoso, Arch¬ 
 bishop of Salerno, were men chosen 
 solely on account of their eminent 
 merit. 
 
 With most, if not all of these, Yit- 
 toria was connected by the bonds of 
 intimate friendship. With Contarini, 
 Sadoleto, and Pole, especially, she cor¬ 
 responded ; and the esteem felt for her 
 by such men is the most undeniable 
 
V'ittoria Colo nna . 
 
 161 
 
 testimony to the genuine worth of her 
 character. It is easy to imagine, there¬ 
 fore, how warm a reception awaited 
 her arrival on this occasion in Home, 
 and how delightful must have been her 
 stay there. She had now reached the 
 full measure of her reputation. The 
 religious and doctrinal topics which 
 were now occupying the best minds in 
 Italy, and on which her thoughts were 
 frequently busied in her correspond¬ 
 ence with such men as those named 
 above, had recently begun to form the 
 subject-matter of her poems. And 
 their superiority in vigor and earnest¬ 
 ness to her earlier works, must have 
 been perfectly apparent to her rever¬ 
 end and learned friends. 
 
 Accordingly, we are told that her 
 stay in Rome on this occasion was a 
 continued ovation; and Signor Yisconti 
 informs us, on the authority of the 
 Neapolitan historian Gregorio Rosso, 
 
 14 * 
 
162 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 that Charles Y. being then in Rome, 
 “ condescended to visit in their own 
 house the ladies Giovanna di’Aragona, 
 wife of Ascanio Colonna, and Vittoria 
 Colonna, Marchesa di Pescara.” 
 
 The following year, 1537 that is, she 
 went, Yisconti says, to Lucca, from 
 which city she passed to Ferrara, 
 arriving there on the 8th of April, u in 
 humble guise, with six waiting-women 
 only.” 1 Ercole d’Este, the second of 
 the name, was then the reigning duke, 
 having succeeded to his father Alplion- 
 so in 1534. And the court of Fer¬ 
 rara, which had been for several years 
 pre-eminent among the principalities 
 of Italy for its love of literature and 
 its patronage of literary men, became 
 yet more notably so in consequence 
 of the marriage of Hercules II. with 
 Renee of France, the daughter of 
 Louis XII. The Protestant tendencies 
 
 1 Mem. per la St. di Ferrara, di Antonia Frizzi, vol. iv. p. 338. 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 163 
 
 and sympathies of this Princess had 
 rendered Ferrara also the resort, and 
 in some instances the refuge, of many 
 professors and favorers of the new 
 ideas which were begining to stir the 
 mind of Italy. And though Vittoria’s 
 orthodox Catholic biographers are 
 above all things anxious to clear her 
 from all suspicion of having ever held 
 opinions eventually condemned by the 
 Church, there is every reason to be¬ 
 lieve that her journey to Ferrara was 
 prompted by the wish to exchange 
 ideas upon these subjects with some ot 
 those leading minds which were known 
 to have imbibed Protestant tendencies, 
 if not to have acquired fully-formed 
 Protestant .convictions. It is abun¬ 
 dantly clear, from the character ot her 
 friendships, from her correspondence, 
 and from the tone ol her poetry at this 
 period, and during the remainder ot 
 her life, that her mind was absorbingly 
 
164 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 occupied with topics of this nature. 
 And the short examination of the latter 
 division of her works, which it is pro¬ 
 posed to attempt in the next chapter, 
 will probably convince such as have no 
 partisan Catholic feelings on the sub¬ 
 ject, that Yittoria’s mind had made 
 very considerable progress in the Prot¬ 
 estant direction. 
 
 No reason is assigned for her stay at 
 Lucca. Yisconti, with unusual brevity 
 and dryness, merely states that she vis¬ 
 ited that city. 1 And it is probable 
 that lie has not been able to discover 
 any documents directly accounting for 
 the motives of her visit. But he for 
 bears to mention that the new opinions 
 had gained so much ground there that 
 that Republic was very near declaring 
 Protestantism the religion of their 
 state. After her totally unaccounted- 
 for visit to the heresy-stricken city, she 
 
 * Vita., p. cxiii. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 165 
 
 proceeds to another almost equally 
 tainted with suspicion. 
 
 It is no donbt perfectly true that 
 Duke Hercules and his court received 
 her with every possible distinction on 
 the score of her poetical celebrity, and 
 deemed his city honored by her pres¬ 
 ence. He invited, we are told, the most 
 distinguished poets and men of letters 
 of Venice and Lombardy to meet her 
 at Ferrara. And so much was her visit 
 prized that when Cardinal Giberto sent 
 thither his secretary, Francesco della 
 Torre, to persuade her to visit his epis¬ 
 copal city Verona, that ambassador 
 wrote to his friend Bembo, at Venice, 
 that he “ had like to have been banished 
 by the Duke, and stoned by the people 
 for coming there with the intention of 
 robbing Ferrara of its most precious 
 treasure, for the purpose of enriching 
 Verona/’ Vittoria, however, seems to 
 have held out some hope that she might 
 
166 
 
 Vittoria Oolonna. 
 
 be induced to visit Yerona. For the 
 secretary, continuing his letter to the 
 literary Venetian cardinal, says, u Who 
 knows but what we may succeed in 
 making reprisal on them ? And if that 
 should come to pass, I should hope to 
 see your Lordship more frequently in 
 Yerona, as I should see Yerona the 
 most honored as well as the most envied 
 city in Italy.” 1 
 
 It is impossible to have more striking 
 testimony to the fame our poetess had 
 achieved by her pen; and it is a fea¬ 
 ture of the age and clime well worth 
 noting, that a number of small states, 
 divided by hostilities and torn by war¬ 
 fare, should have, nevertheless, pos 
 sessed among them a republic of letters 
 capable of conferring a celebrity so cor¬ 
 dially acknowledged throughout the 
 whole extent of Italy. 
 
 1 Letter dated 11th September, 153T, from Bembo’s Corre 
 epondence, cited by Visconti, p. cxv. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 m 
 
 From a letter 1 written by Vittoria 
 to Giangiorgio Trissino of Vicenza, the 
 author of an almost forgotten epic, en¬ 
 titled u Italia liberata da Goti,” bearing 
 date the 10th of January (1537), we 
 learn that she found the climate of Fer¬ 
 rara “ unfavorable to her indisposition 
 which would seem to imply a continu¬ 
 ance of ill-health. Yet it was at this 
 time that she conceived the idea of un¬ 
 dertaking a journey to the Holy Land. 3 
 Her old pupil, and nearly life-long 
 friend, the Marchese del Vasto, came 
 from Milan to Ferrara, to dissuade her 
 from the project. And with this view, 
 as well as to remove her from the air 
 of Ferrara, he induced her to return 
 to Home, where her arrival was again 
 made a matter of almost public re¬ 
 joicing. 
 
 The date of this journey was proba¬ 
 bly about the end of 1537. The society 
 
 Visconti, p. cxiv. 
 
 2 Visconti, p. cxvi. 
 
168 
 
 Yittoria Colonna. 
 
 of the Eternal City, especially of that 
 particular section of it which made the 
 world of Yittoria, was in a happy and 
 hopeful mood. The excellent Contarini 
 had not yet departed 1 thence on his 
 mission of conciliation to the Confer¬ 
 ence, which had been arranged with 
 the Protestant leaders at Iiatisbon. 
 The brightest and most cheering hopes 
 were based on a total misconception of 
 the nature, or rather on an entire igno¬ 
 rance of the existence of that under¬ 
 current of social change, which, to the 
 north of the Alps, made the reformatory 
 movement something infinitely greater, 
 more fruitful of vast results, and more 
 inevitable, than any scholastic dispute 
 on points of theologic doctrine. And 
 at the time of Yittoria’s arrival, that 
 little band of pure, amiable, and high- 
 minded, but not large-minded men, who 
 
 1 lie left Koine 11th November, 1538. Letter from Con 
 umni to Pole, cited by Ranke. Austin’s trans., voL i. p. 152. 
 
Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 169 
 
 fondly hoped that, by the amendment 
 of some practical abuses, and a mutually 
 forbearing give-and-take arrangement 
 of some nice questions of metaphysical 
 theology, peace on earth and good-will 
 among men, might yet be made com¬ 
 patible with the undiminished preten¬ 
 sions and theory of an universal and 
 infallible Church, were still lapped in 
 the happiness of their day-dream. Of 
 this knot of excellent men, which com¬ 
 prised all that was best, most amiable, 
 and most learned in Italy, Vittoria was 
 the disciple, the friend, and the inspired 
 Muse. The short examination of her 
 religious poetry, therefore, which w T ill 
 be the subject of the next chapter, will 
 not only open to us the deepest and 
 most earnest part of her own mind, but 
 will, in a measure, illustrate the extent 
 and nature of the Protestantizing tend¬ 
 encies then manifesting themselves in 
 Italy. 
 
 15 
 
Vittorio, Colonna 
 
 170 
 
 t 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Oratory of Divine Love.—Italian Reformers.—Their tenets. 
 —Consequence of the doctrine of Justification by Faith.— 
 Fear of Schism in Italy.—Orthodoxy of Yittoria questioned. 
 —Proofs of her Protestantism from her writings.—Calvin¬ 
 ism of her Sonnets.—Remarkable passage against Auricu¬ 
 lar Confession.—Controversial and religious Sonnets.— 
 Absence from the Sonnets of moral topics.—Specimen of 
 her poetical power.—Romanist ideas.—Absence from the 
 Sonnets of all patriotic feeling. 
 
 The extreme corruption of the Italian 
 church, and in some degree also the 
 influence of German thought, had even 
 as early as the Pontificate of Leo X., 
 led several of the better minds in Italy 
 to desire ardently some means of re¬ 
 ligious reform. A contemporary writer 
 cited by Ranke, 1 tells us that in Leo's 
 
 1 Caracciolo, Vita di Paolo 4, MS. Ranke, Popes, vol. i. 
 o 186, edit. cit. 
 
I T ittoria Colonna. 
 
 171 
 
 time some fifty or sixty earnest and 
 pious men formed themselves into a 
 society at Rome, which they called the 
 u Oratory of Divine Love,” and strove 
 by example and preaching to stem as 
 much as in them lay the tide of profli¬ 
 gacy and infidelity. Among these men 
 w T ere Contarini, the learned and saint¬ 
 like Venetian, Sadolet, Giberto, Caraffa 
 ‘ (a man, who, however earnest in his 
 piety, showed himself at a later period, 
 when he became pope as Paul IY., to 
 be animated with a very different spirit 
 from that of most of his fellow-religion¬ 
 ists,) Gaetano, Thiene, who was after¬ 
 wards canonized, &c. But in almost ev¬ 
 ery part of Italy, not less than in Rome, 
 there were men of the same stamp, who 
 carried the new ideas to greater or 
 lesser lengths, were the objects of more 
 or less ecclesiastical censure and perse¬ 
 cution ; and who died, some reconciled 
 
172 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 to, and some excommunicated by the 
 Church they so vainly strove to amend. 
 
 In Naples, Juan Valdez, a Spaniard, 
 Secretary to the Viceroy, warmly em¬ 
 braced the new doctrines ; and being 
 a man much beloved, and of great in¬ 
 fluence, he drew many converts to the 
 cause. It was a pupil and friend of 
 his, whose name it has been vainly 
 sought to ascertain, who composed the- 
 celebrated treatise, “ On the Benefits 
 ot the Death of Christ,” which was 
 circulated in immense numbers over 
 the whole of Italy, and exercised a very 
 powerful influence. A little later,- 
 when the time of inquisitorial persecu 
 tion came, this book was so vigorously 
 proscribed, sought out and destroyed, 
 that despite the vast number of copies 
 which must have existed in every cor¬ 
 ner of Italy, it has utterly disappeared, 
 and not one is known to be in exist- 
 
V'ittoria Colonna. 
 
 173 
 
 ence . 1 It is impossible to have a more 
 striking proof of the violent and 
 searching nature of the persecution 
 under Paul IY. Another friend of 
 Yaldez, who was also intimate with 
 Yittoria, was Marco Flaminio, who re¬ 
 vised the treatise “ On the Benefits of 
 Christ’s Death.” 
 
 In Modena, the Bishop Morone, the 
 intimate friend of Pole and Contarini, 
 and his chaplain, Don Girolamo de 
 Modena, supported and taught the 
 same opinions. 
 
 In Yenice, Gregorio Cortese, Abbot 
 of San Giorgio Maggiore, Luigi Priuli, 
 a patrician, and the Benedictine Marco, 
 of Padna, formed a society mainly oc¬ 
 cupied in discussing the subtle ques¬ 
 tions which formed the “symbolum” 
 of the new party. 
 
 “If we inquire,” says Ranke , 3 “ what 
 was the faith which chiefly inspired 
 
 1 Eanke, ed. cit., vol. i. p. 217. 2 Ed. cit., vol. i. p. 188. 
 
 15* 
 
174 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 these men, we shall find that the main 
 article of it was that same doctrine of 
 justification, which, as preached by 
 Luther, had given rise to the whole 
 Protestant movement.” 
 
 The reader fortunate enough to be 
 wholly unread in controversial divinity, 
 will yet probably not have escaped 
 hearing of the utterly interminable dis¬ 
 putes on justification, free-will, election, 
 faith, good works, prevenient grace, 
 original sin, absolute decrees, and pre¬ 
 destination, which, with much of evil, 
 and as yet little good consequence, 
 have occupied the most acute intellects, 
 and most learning-stored brains of 
 Europe for the last three centuries. 
 Without any accurate knowledge of the 
 manner in which the doctrines repre¬ 
 sented by these familiar terms are de¬ 
 pendent on, and necessitated by each 
 other, and of the precise points on 
 which the opposing creeds have fought 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 175 
 
 this eternal battle, he will be aware 
 that the system popularly known as 
 Calvinism, represents the side of the 
 question taken by the reformers of the 
 sixteenth century, while the opposite 
 theory of justification by good works 
 was that held by the orthodox Catholic 
 Church, or unreforming party. And with 
 merely these general ideas to guide 
 him, it will appear strangely unaccount¬ 
 able to find all the best, noblest and 
 purest minds adopting a system which 
 in its simplest logical development in¬ 
 evitably leads to the most debasing de- 
 monolatry, and lays the axe to the root 
 of all morality and noble action ; while 
 the corrupt, the worldly, the amb'- 
 tious, the unspiritual, the unintellectua\ 
 natures that formed the dominant party, 
 held the opposite opinion, apparently 
 so favorable to virtue. 
 
 An explanation of this phenomenon 
 by a partisan of either school would 
 
176 Vittoria Oolonna, 
 
 probably be long and somewhat intri¬ 
 cate. But the matter becomes intel¬ 
 ligible enough, and the true key to the 
 wishes and conduct of both parties is 
 found, if, without regarding the moral 
 or theological results of either scheme, 
 or troubling ourselves with the subtle¬ 
 ties by which either side sought to meet 
 the objections of the other, we consider 
 simply the bearings of the new doc¬ 
 trines on that ecclesiastical system, 
 which the orthodox and dominant party 
 were determined at all cost to support. 
 If it were admitted that man is justifi¬ 
 able by faith alone, that his election is 
 a matter to be certified to his own 
 heart by the immediate operation of 
 the Divine Spirit, it would follow that 
 the whole question of his religious con¬ 
 dition and future hopes might be, or 
 rather must be, settled between him 
 and his Creator alone. And then what 
 would become of ecclesiastical authority 
 
m 
 
 Vittorio, Oolonna. 
 
 and priestly interference ? If the only 
 knowledge possible to be attained of 
 any individual’s standing before God, 
 were locked in bis own breast, what 
 hold can the Church have on him ? It 
 is absolutely necessary to any system 
 of spiritual tyranny, that no doctrine 
 should be admitted by virtue of which 
 a layman may tell a priest that despite 
 the opinion he, the priest, may form 
 upon the subject, he, the layman, has 
 the assurance of acceptation before 
 God, bv means of evidence of a nature 
 inscrutable to the priest. Once admit 
 this, and the whole foundation of ec* 
 clesiastical domination is sapped. Nay, 
 by a very logical and short route, sure 
 to be soon travelled by those who have 
 made good this first fundamental pre¬ 
 tension, they would arrive at the ne¬ 
 gation and abolition of all priesthood. 
 Preachers and teachers might still have 
 place under such a system, but not 
 
178 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 priests, or priestly power. To this an 
 externally ascertainable religion is so 
 vitally necessary, that the theory of 
 justification by good works was far 
 from sufficient for the purposes of the 
 Catholic priesthood, as long as good 
 works could be understood to mean a 
 general course of not very accurately 
 measurable virtuous living. This was 
 not sufficient, because, though visible, 
 not sufficiently tangible, countable, and 
 tariffable. Hence the good works most 
 urgently prescribed, became reduced 
 to that mass of formal practices so well 
 known as the material of Romanist 
 piety, among which, the most valuable 
 for the end in view, are of course those 
 which can only be performed by the 
 intervention of a priest. 
 
 But it must not be supposed that all 
 this was as plainly discerned by the 
 combatants in that confused strife as it 
 may be by lookers back on it from a 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 m 
 
 vantage ground three centuries high. 
 The innovators were in all probability 
 few, if any of them, conscious of the 
 extent and importance of the principle 
 they were fighting for. And, on the 
 other hand, there is no reason to at¬ 
 tribute an evil consciousness of motives, 
 such as those nakedly set forth above, 
 to the conservative party. The fact 
 that a doctrine would tend to abridge 
 Church power and endanger Church 
 unity, would doubtless have appeared 
 to many a good and conscientious man 
 a sufficient proof of its unsoundness and 
 falsity. 
 
 Indeed, even among the reformers in 
 Italy the fear of schism was so great, 
 and the value attached to Church unity 
 so high, that these considerations pro¬ 
 bably did as much towards checking 
 and finally extinguishing Protestantism 
 in Italy as did the strong hand of per¬ 
 secution. From the first, many of the 
 
180 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 most earnest advocates of the new doc¬ 
 trines were by no means prepared to 
 sever themselves from the Church for 
 the sake of their opinions. Some were 
 ready to face such schism and martyr¬ 
 dom also in the cause ; as, for instance, 
 Bernardino Ochino, the General of the 
 Capuchins, and the most powerful 
 preacher of his day, who fled from 
 Italy and became a professed Protes¬ 
 tant, and Carnesecchi, the Florentine, 
 who was put to death for his heresy at 
 Rome. 
 
 But it had not yet become clear how 
 far the new doctrines might be held 
 compatibly with perfect community 
 with the Church of Rome at the time 
 when Vittoria arrived in that city from 
 Ferrara. The conference with the Ger¬ 
 man Protestants, by means of which 
 it was hoped to effect a reconciliation, 
 was then being arranged, and the hopes 
 
I T it tori a Golonna. 
 
 181 
 
 of Vittoria’s friends ran high. When 
 these hopes proved delusive, and when 
 Rome pronounced herself decisively 
 on the doctrines held by the Italian 
 reformers, the most conspicuous friends 
 of Vittoria did not quit the Church. 
 She herself writes ever as its submis¬ 
 sive and faithful daughter. But as 
 to her having held opinions which 
 were afterwards declared heretical, 
 and for which others suffered, much 
 of her poetry, written probably about 
 this time, affords evidence so clear, 
 that it is wonderful Tiraboschi and her 
 biographers can deem it possible to 
 maintain her orthodoxy. 
 
 Take, for example, the following 
 Bonnet:— 
 
 “ Quand’ io riguardo il nobil raggio ardente 
 Della grazia divina, e quel valore 
 Ch’ illustra ’1 intelletto, infiamma il core 
 Con virtu’ sopr’ umana, alta, e possente, 
 
 L’ alma le voglie allor fisse ed intente 
 Raccoglie tutte insieme a fargli onore; 
 
 16 
 
182 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 Ma tanto ha di poter, quant’ e ’1 favore 
 Che dal lume e dal foco intende e sente. 
 
 Ond’ ella pud ben far certa efficace 
 L’ alta sua elezion, ma insino al segno 
 Ch’ all autor d’ogni ben, sua merce, piace. 
 
 Non sprona il corso nostro industria o ingegno; 
 Quel corre piu sicuro e piu vivace, 
 
 C’ ha dal favor del ciel maggior sostegno.” 
 
 Thus rendered into English blank 
 verse, with a greater closeness to the 
 sense of the original than might per¬ 
 haps have been attained in a transla¬ 
 tion hampered by the necessity of 
 rhyming:—• 
 
 “ When I reflect on that bright noble ray 
 
 Of grace divine, and on that mighty power, 
 
 Which clears the intellect, inflames the heart 
 With virtue, strong with more than human strength, 
 My soul then gathers up her will, intent 
 To render to that Power the honor due; 
 
 But only so much can she, as free grace 
 Gives her to feel and know th’ inspiring fire. 
 
 Thus can the soul her high election make 
 Fruitful and sure; but only to such point 
 As, in his goodness, wills the Fount of good. 
 
 Nor art nor industry can speed her course; 
 
 He most securely and alertly runs 
 
 Who most by Heaven’s free favor is upheld." 
 
Vittorio, Colonna. 183 
 
 The leading points of Calvinistic 
 doctrine could hardly be in the limits 
 of a sonnet more clearly and compre¬ 
 hensively stated. Devotional medita¬ 
 tion inclines the heart to God ; but the 
 soul is powerless even to worship, ex¬ 
 cept in such measure as she is enabled 
 to do so by freely-given grace. By 
 this means only can man make sure his 
 election. To strive after virtue is use¬ 
 less to the non-elect, seeing that man 
 can safely run his course only in pro¬ 
 portion as he has received the favor of 
 God. 
 
 Again, in the following sonnet will 
 be remarked a tone of thought and 
 style of phrase perfectly congenial to 
 modern devotional feeling of wdiat is 
 termed the evangelical school; while 
 it is assuredly not such as would meet 
 the approval of orthodox members of 
 either the Homan Catholic or Anglo- 
 Catholic churches : 
 
184 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 “ Quando dal lume, il cui vivo splendore 
 Rende il petto fedel lieto e sicuro, 
 
 Si dissolve per grazia il ghiaccio duro, 
 
 Che sovente si gela intorno al core, 
 
 Sento ai bei lampi del possente ardore 
 Cader delle mie colpe il manto oscuro, 
 
 E vestirmi in quel punto il chiaro e puro 
 Della prima innocenza e primo amore. 
 
 E sebben con serrata e fida ckiave 
 
 Serro quel raggio; egli e scivo e sottile, 
 
 Si ch’ un basso pensier lo scaccia e sdegna. 
 Ond’ ei ratto sen vola; io mesta e grave 
 Rimango, e ’1 prego che d’ ogni ombra vile 
 Mi spogli, accio piu presto a me sen vegna.” 
 
 Which may be thus, with tolerable 
 accuracy, rendered into English :— 
 
 “ When by the light, whose living ray both peace 
 And joy to faithful bosoms doth impart, 
 
 The indurated ice, around the heart 
 So often gather’d, is dissolved through grace, 
 Beneath that blessed radiance from above 
 Falls from me the dark mantle of my sin; 
 Sudden I stand forth pure and radiant in 
 The garb of primal innocence and love. 
 
 And though I strive with lock and trusty key 
 To keep that ray, so subtle ’tis and coy, 
 
 By one low thought ’tis scared and put to flight. 
 So flies it from me. I in sorrowing plight 
 
Vittoria Colo nna. 
 
 185 
 
 Remain, and pray, that he from base alloy 
 May purge me, so the light come sooner back to me.” 
 
 Here, in addition to the u points of 
 doctrine laid down in the previous 
 sonnet, we have that of sudden and in* 
 stantaneous conversion and sanctifica¬ 
 tion, and that without any aid from 
 sacrament, altar, or priest. 
 
 Similar thoughts are again expressed 
 in the next sonnet selected, which in 
 Signor Visconti’s edition immediately 
 follows the preceding:— 
 
 “Spiego per voi, mia luce, indarno 1’ ale, 
 
 Prima che 1 caldo vostro interno vento 
 M apra 1’ aere d’ intorno, ora ch’ io sento 
 Vincer da nuovo ardir l’antico male; 
 
 Che giunga all’ infinito opra mortale 
 Opra vostra e, Signor, che in un momento 
 La pud far degna; ch’ io da me pavento 
 Di cader col pensier quand’ ei piu, sale. 
 
 Bramo quell’ invisibil chiaro lume, 
 
 Che fuga densa nebbia; e quell’ accesa 
 Secreta fiamma, ch’ ogni gel consuma. 
 
 Onde poi, sgombra dal terren costume, 
 
 Tutta al divino amor 1’ anima intesa 
 Si mova al volo ultero in ultra piuma.” 
 
 10 * 
 
186 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 Thus done into English : 
 
 “ Feeling new force to conquer primal sin, 
 
 Yet all in vain I spread my wings to thee, 
 
 My light, until the air around shall be 
 Made clear for me by thy warm breath within. 
 
 That mortal works should reach the infinite 
 Is thy work, Lord! For in a moment thou 
 Canst give them worth. Left to myself I know 
 My thought would fall, when at its utmost height. 
 
 I long for that clear radiance from above 
 
 That puts to flight all cloud ; and that bright flame 
 Which secret burning warms the frozen soul; 
 
 So that set free from every mortal aim, 
 
 And all intent alone on heavenly love, 
 
 She flies with stronger pinion towards her goal.” 
 
 In tlie following lines, which form the 
 conclusion of a sonnet, in which she 
 has been saying that God does not per¬ 
 mit that any pure heart should be con¬ 
 cealed from His all-seeing eye “ by the 
 fraud or force of others, ” we have a 
 very remarkable bit of such heresy on 
 the vital point of the confessional, as 
 has been sufficient to consign more 
 than one victim to the stake :— 
 
Vittor ia Colonna . 
 
 187 
 
 u Securi del suo dolce e giusto impero, 
 
 Non come il prinio padre e la sua donna, 
 Dobbiani del nostro error biasimare altrui; 
 Ma con la speme accesa e dolor vero 
 i Aprir dentro, passando oltra la gonna 
 Ifalli nostri a solo a sol con lui” 
 
 The underlined words, “ passando 
 oltra la gonna,” literally, “passing be* 
 yond the gown,” though the sense ap¬ 
 pears to be unmistakable, are yet suf¬ 
 ficiently obscure and unobvious, and 
 the phrase sufficiently far-fetched, to 
 lead to the suspicion of a wish on the 
 part of the writer in some degree to 
 veil her meaning. “ That in the captain's 
 but a choleric word, which in the soldier 
 is foul blasphemy. ” And the high¬ 
 born Colonna lady, the intimate friend 
 of cardinals and princes, might write 
 much with impunity which would have 
 been perilous to less lofty heads. But 
 the sentiment in this very remarkable 
 passage implies an attack on one of 
 
188 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 Rome’s tenderest and sorest points. In 
 English the lines run thus :— 
 
 “ Confiding in His just and gentle sway 
 
 We should not dare, like Adam and his wife, 
 
 On other’s backs our proper blame to lay; 
 
 But with new-kindled hope and unfeigned grief, 
 Passing by 'priestly robes , lay bare within 
 To Him alone the secret of our sin.” 
 
 Again, in the conclusion of another 
 sonnet, in which she has been speaking 
 of the benefits of Christ’s death, and of 
 the necessity of a u soprannatural divina 
 fede” for the receiving of them, she 
 writes in language very similar to that 
 of many a modern advocate of u free in¬ 
 spiration,” and which must have been 
 distasteful to the erudite clergy of the 
 dominant hierarchy, as follows :— 
 
 “ Que’ ch’ avra sol in lui le luci fisse, 
 
 Non que’ ch’ intese meglio, o che pih lesse 
 Volumi in terra, in ciel sara beato. 
 
 In carta questa legge non si scrisse ; 
 
 Ma con la stampa sua nel cor purgato 
 Col foco dell’ amor Gesu 1’ impresse.” 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 189 
 
 In English:— 
 
 “ He who hath fixed on Christ alone his eyes, 
 
 Not he who best hath understood, or read 
 Most earthly volumes, shall Heaven’s bliss attain. 
 For not on paper did He write His law, 
 
 But printed it on expurgated hearts 
 Stamped with the fire of Jesus’ holy love.” 
 
 In another remarkable sonnet, she 
 gives expression to the prevailing feel¬ 
 ing ot the pressing necessity for Church 
 reform, joined to a marked declaration 
 of belief in the doctrine of* Papal infal¬ 
 libility ; a doctrine, which by its tena¬ 
 cious hold on the Italian mind, contrib 
 uted mainly to extinguish the sudden 
 straw blaze of reforming tendencies 
 throughout Italy. The lines run as fol¬ 
 lows :— 
 
 “ ^ e ggi° d’ alga e di fango omai si carca, 
 
 Pietro, la rete tua, che se qualche onda 
 Hi fuor 1’ assale o intorno circonda, 
 
 Potria spezzarsi, e a rischio andar la barca; 
 
 La qual, non come suol leggiera e scarca, 
 
 Sovra ’1 turbato mar corre a seconda, 
 
190 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 Ma in poppa e’u prora, all’ una e all’ altra sponda 
 E’ grave si ch’ a grau periglio varca. 
 
 II tuo buon successor, cK alia cagione 
 Direttamente elessc , e cor e mano 
 Move sovente per condurla a porto. 
 
 Ma contra il voler suo ratto s’ oppone 
 
 L’ altrui malizia; onde ciascun s’ e accorto, 
 
 Ch’ egli senza ’1 tuo aiuto adopra in vano.” 
 
 Which may be thus read in English 
 blank verse, giving not very poetically, 
 but with tolerable fidelity, the sense of 
 the original:— 
 
 “ With mud and weedy growth so foul I see 
 Thy net, 0 Peter, that should any wave 
 Assail it from without or trouble it, 
 
 It might be rended, and so risk the ship. 
 
 For now thy bark, no more,' as erst, skims light 
 With favoring breezes o’er the troubled sea; 
 
 But labors burthen’d so from stem to stern, 
 
 That danger menaces the course it steers. 
 
 Thy good successor, by direct decree 
 
 Of providence elect , with heart and hand 
 Assiduous strives to bring it to the port. 
 
 But spite his striving his intent is foiled 
 By other’s evil. So that all have seen 
 That without aid from thee, he strives in vain.’ 
 
 The lofty pretensions of the Bishop 
 
I T ittoria Colonna. 
 
 191 
 
 of Rome, which our poetess, with all 
 her reforming aspirations, goes out of 
 her way to declare and maintain in the 
 phrase of the above sonnet marked by 
 italics, were dear to the hearts of Ital¬ 
 ians. It may be, that an antagonistic 
 bias, arising from feelings equally be¬ 
 yond the limits of the religious question, 
 helped to add acrimony to the attacks 
 of the transalpine reformers. But there 
 can be no doubt, that Italian self-love 
 was active in rendering distasteful to 
 Italians a doctrine, whose effect would 
 be to pull down Rome from her position 
 as capital of the Christian world, and 
 no longer permit an Italian ecclesiastic 
 to issue his lofty decrees “ Urbi et 
 Orbi.” And those best acquainted 
 with the Italian mind of that period, as 
 evidenced by its literature, and illustrat¬ 
 ed by its still-existing tendencies and 
 prejudices, will most appreciate the ex¬ 
 tent to which such feelings unquestion- 
 
192 
 
 Vittorio, Colonri'a. 
 
 ably operated in preventing the refor¬ 
 mation from taking root, and bearing 
 fruit in Italy. 
 
 Tbe readers of tlie foregoing sonnets, 
 even those who are familiar with the 
 language of the original, will probably 
 have wondered at the greatness of the 
 poetical reputation, which was built 
 out of such materials. It is but fair, 
 however, to the poetess to state, that 
 the citations have been selected, rather 
 with the view of decisively proving 
 these Protestant leanings of Vittoria, 
 which have been so eagerly denied, and 
 of illustrating the tone of Italian Prot¬ 
 estant feeling at that period, than of 
 presenting the most favorable speci¬ 
 mens of her poetry. However fitly de¬ 
 votional feeling may be clothed in 
 poetry of the highest order, controver¬ 
 sial divinity is not a happy subject for 
 verse. And Vittoria, on the compara¬ 
 tively rare occasions, when she permits 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 193 
 
 herself to escape from the considera¬ 
 tion of disputed dogma, can make a 
 nearer approach to true poetry of 
 thought and expression. 
 
 In the following sonnet, it is curious 
 to observe how the expression of the 
 grand and simple sentiment of perfect 
 trust in the will and intentions of the 
 omnipotent Creator, which, in the first 
 eight lines, rises into something like 
 poetry, becomes flattened and debased 
 into the most prosaic doggrel, as soon 
 as the author, recollecting the contro¬ 
 versies raging round her on the subject, 
 bethinks her of the necessity of duly 
 defining the theological virtue of 
 “ Faith,” as being of that sort fit for the 
 production of works. 
 
 “ Deh! mandi oggi, Signor, novello e chiaro 
 Raggio al mio cor di quella ardente fede, 
 
 Ch’ opra sol per amor, non per mercede, 
 
 Onde ugualmente il tuo voler gli e caro! 
 
 Dal dolce fonte tuo pensa eke amaro 
 Nascer non possa, anzi riceve e crede 
 
194 
 
 Vittorio, Golonna. 
 
 Per buon quant’ ode, e per bel quanto vede, 
 Per largo il ciel, quand’ ei si mostra avaro. 
 Se chieder grazia all’ umil servo lice, 
 
 Questa fede vorrei, che illustra, accende, 
 
 E pasce 1’ alma sol di lume vero. 
 
 Con questa in parte il gran valor s’ intende, 
 Che pianta e ferma in noi 1’ alta radice, 
 Qual rende i frutti a lui tutti d’amore.” 
 
 Which may be thus rendered :— 
 
 “ Grant to my heart a pure fresh ray, 0 Lord, 
 
 Of that bright ardent faith, which makes thy will 
 Its best-loved law, and seeks it to fulfil 
 For love alone, not looking for reward;— 
 
 That faith, which deems no ill can come from thee, 
 But humbly trusts, that, rightly understood 
 All that meets eye or ear is fair and good, 
 
 And Heaven’s love oft in prayers refused can see. 
 And if thy handmaid might prefer a suit, 
 
 I would that faith possess that fires the heart, 
 
 And feeds the soul with the true light alone; 
 
 I mean hereby, that mighty power in part, 
 
 Which plants and strengthens in us the deep root, 
 From which all fruits of love for him are grown.” 
 
 In the following sonnet, which is 
 one of several dictated by the same 
 mood of feeling, the more subjective 
 tone of her thought affords us an auto- 
 
Vittor ia Colonna. 
 
 195 
 
 biographical glimpse of her state of 
 mind on religions subjects. We find, 
 that the new tenets which she had 
 imbibed had failed to give her peace 
 ol mind. That comfortable security, 
 and undoubting satisfied tranquillity, 
 procured for the mass of her orthodox 
 contemporaries, by the due performance 
 of their fasts, vigils, penitences, &c., 
 was not attained for Vittoria by a creed, 
 which required her, as she here tells 
 us, to stifle the suggestions of her rea¬ 
 son. 
 
 “ Se con 1’ armi celesti avess’ io vinto 
 Me stessa, i sensi, e la ragione umana, 
 Andrei con altro spirto alta e loritana 
 Dal mondo, e dal suo onor falso dipinto. 
 
 Sull’ ali della fede il pensier cinto 
 Di speme, omai non piu caduca e vana, 
 Sarebbe fuor di questa valle insana 
 Da verace virtute alzato e spinto. 
 
 Ben ho gia fermo 1’ occhio al miglior fine 
 Dei nostro corso; ma non volo ancora 
 Per lo destro sentier salda e leggiera. 
 
 Veggio i segni del sol, scorgo 1’ aurora; 
 
196 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 Ma per li sacri giri alle divine 
 Stanze non entro in quella luce vera.” 
 
 Englished as follows :— 
 
 “ Had I with heavenly arms ’gainst self and sense 
 And human reason waged successful war, 
 
 Then with a dilferent spirit soaring far 
 I’d fly the world’s vain glory and pretence. 
 
 Then soaring thought on wings of faith might rise, 
 Armed by a hope no longer vain or frail 
 Far from the madness of this earthly vale, 
 
 Led by true virtue towards its native skies. 
 
 That better aim is ever in my sight, 
 
 Of man’s existence; but not yet’tis mine 
 To speed sure-footed on the happy way. 
 
 Signs of the rising sun and coming day 
 I see ; but enter not the courts divine 
 Whose holy portals lead to perfect light.” 
 
 A touch of similar feeling may he 
 observed also in the following sonnet, 
 united with more of poetical feeling 
 and expression. Indeed, this sonnet 
 may be offered as a specimen of the 
 author’s happiest efforts :— 
 
 “ Fra gelo e nebbia corro a Dio sovente 
 Per foco e lume, onde i ghiacci disciolti 
 
I T ittoria Colonna. 
 
 197 
 
 Sieno, e gli ombrosf veli aperti e tolti 
 Dalla divina luce e fiamma ardente. 
 
 E se fredda ed oscura e ancor la mente, 
 Pur son tutti i pensieri al ciel rivolti; 
 
 E par che dentro in gran silenzio ascolti 
 Un suon, che sol nelP anima si sente; 
 
 E dice ; Non temer, che venne al mondo 
 Gesu d’ eterno ben largo ampio mare, 
 Per far leggiero ogni gravoso pondo. 
 
 Sempre son l’ onde sue piu dolci e chiare 
 A chi con umil barca in quel gran fondo 
 Dell’ alta sua bontil si laseia andare.” 
 
 If the reader, who is able to form a 
 judgment of the poetical merit of this 
 sonnet only from the subjoined transla¬ 
 tion, should fail to find in it any thing 
 to justify the opinion that has been ex¬ 
 pressed of it, he is entreated to believe 
 that the fault is that of the translator, 
 who can promise only that the sense 
 has been faithfully rendered :— 
 
 “ Ofttimes to God through frost and cloud I go 
 For light and warmth to break my icy chain, 
 
 And pierce and rend my veils of doubt in twain 
 With his divinest love, and radiant glow. 
 
 And if my soul sit cold and dark below 
 
 17 * 
 
198 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 Yet all her longings fixed on heaven remain ; 
 
 And seems she ’mid deep silence to a strain 
 To listen, which the soul alone can know,— 
 Saying, Fear nought! for Jesus came on earth,— 
 Jesus of endless joys the wide deep sea, 
 
 To ease each heavy load of mortal birth. 
 
 His waters ever clearest, sweetest be 
 To him, who in a lonely bark drifts forth, 
 
 On his great deeps of goodness trustfully.” 
 
 It will probably be admitted, that 
 the foregoing extracts from Yittoria 
 Colonna’s poetry, if they do not suffice 
 to give the outline of the entire fabric 
 of her religious faith, yet abundantly 
 prove, that she must be classed among 
 the Protestant and reforming party of 
 her age and country, rather than 
 among the orthodox Catholics, their 
 opponents. The passages quoted all 
 bear, more or less directly, on a few 
 special points of doctrine, as do also the 
 great bulk of her religious poems. But 
 these points are precisely those on which 
 the reforming movement was based, 
 the cardinal points of difference be- 
 
I r it tori a Colonna. 
 
 199 
 
 tween the parties. They involve ex¬ 
 actly those doctrines which Rome, on 
 mature examination and reflection, 
 rightly found to be fatally incompatible 
 with her system. For the dominant 
 party at Trent were assuredly wiser in 
 their generation than such children of 
 light, as the good Contarini, who 
 dreamed that a purified Papacy was 
 possible, and that Rome might still be 
 Rome, after its creed had been thus 
 modified. Caraffa and Ghislieri, Popes 
 Paul IV and Pius Y, and their in¬ 
 quisitors knew very clearly better. 
 
 It is, of course, natural enough, that 
 the points of doctrine then new and 
 disputed, the points respecting which 
 the poetess differed from the majority 
 of the world around her, and which 
 must have been the subject of her 
 special meditation, should occupy also 
 Hie most prominent position in her 
 writings. \ et it is remarkable, that in 
 
200 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 bo large a mass of poetry on exclusively 
 religious themes, there should be found 
 hardly a thought or sentiment on topics 
 of practical morality. The title of 
 “ Rime sacre e morali ,” prefixed by 
 Visconti to this portion of Vittoria’s 
 writings, is wholly a misnomer. If 
 these sonnets furnish the materials for 
 forming a tolerably accurate notion ot 
 her scheme of theology, our estimate 
 of her views of morality must be sought 
 elsewhere. 
 
 There is every reason to feel satisfied, 
 both from such records as we have of 
 her life, and from the perfectly agreeing 
 testimony of her contemporaries, that 
 the tenor of her own life and conduct 
 was not only blameless, but marked by 
 the consistent exercise of many noble 
 virtues. But, much as we hear from 
 the lamentations of preachers of the 
 habitual tendency of human conduct to 
 fall short of human professions, the op- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 201 
 
 posite phenomena exhibited by men, 
 whose intuitive moral sense is superior 
 to the teaching derivable from their 
 creed, is perhaps quite as common. 
 That band of eminent men, who were 
 especially known as the maintainers 
 and defenders of the peculiar tenets 
 held by Yittoria, were unquestionably 
 in all respects the best and noblest of 
 their age and country. Yet their creed 
 was assuredly an immoral one. And 
 in the rare passages of our poetess’s 
 writings, in which a glimpse of moraJ 
 theory can be discerned, the low and 
 and unenlightened nature of it is such, 
 as to prove, that the heaven-taught 
 heart reached purer heights than the 
 creed-taught intelligence could attain. 
 
 What could be worse, for instance, 
 than the morality of the following con¬ 
 clusion of a sonnet, in which she has 
 been lamenting the blindness of those 
 
2 02 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 who sacrifice eternal bliss for the sake 
 of worldly pleasures. 
 
 She writes:— 
 
 “ Poiche ’1 mal per natura non gli annoia, 
 
 E del ben per ragion piacer non hanno, 
 Abbian almen di Dio giusto timore.” 
 
 In English :— 
 
 “ Since evil by its nature pains them not, 
 
 Nor good for its own proper sake delights, 
 
 Let them at least have righteous fear of God.” 
 
 She appears incapable of understand¬ 
 ing* that no tear ot God could in any 
 wise avail to improve or profit him, 
 who has no aversion from evil, and no 
 love for good. She does not perceive, 
 that to inculcate so godless a fear of 
 God, is to make the Creator a mere 
 bugbear for police purposes ; and that 
 a theory of Deity constructed on this 
 basis would become a degrading de- 
 monolatry! 
 
203 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 Vittoria Colonna has survived in 
 men’s memory as a poetess. But she 
 is far more interesting to the historical 
 student, who "would obtain a full un¬ 
 derstanding of that wonderful sixteenth 
 century, as a Protestant. Her highly 
 gifted and richly cultivated intelligence, 
 her great social position, and above all, 
 her close intimacy with the eminent 
 men who strove to set on foot an Italian 
 reformation which should not be in¬ 
 compatible with the Papacy, make the 
 illustration of her religious opinions a 
 matter of no slight historical interest. 
 And the bulk of the citations from her 
 works has accordingly been selected 
 with this view. But it is fair to her 
 reputation to give one sonnet at least, 
 chosen for no other reason than its 
 merit. 
 
 The following, written apparently on 
 the anniversary of our Saviour’s cruci- 
 
204 
 
 I r ittoria Colonna. 
 
 fixion, is certainly one of the best, if 
 not the best in the collection :— 
 
 “ Gli angeli eletti al gran bene infinite 
 Braman oggi soft'rir penosa morte, 
 
 Accid nella celeste empirea corte 
 Non sia piu il servo, che il signor, gradito. 
 Piange 1’ antica madre il gusto ardito 
 Ch’ a’ figli suoi del ciel chiuse le porte; 
 
 E che due man piagate or sieno scorte 
 Da ridurne al cammin per lei smarrito. 
 
 Asconde il sol la sua fulgente chioma; 
 
 Spezzansi i sassi vivi; apronsi i monti; 
 
 Trema la terra e ’1 ciel; turbansi 1’ acque ; 
 Piangon gli spirti, al nostro mal si pronti, 
 
 Delle catene lor 1’ aggiunta soma. 
 
 L’ uomo non piange, e pur piangendo nacque 1 ” 
 
 Of which the following is an inade¬ 
 quate but tolerably faithful transla¬ 
 tion :— 
 
 “ The angels to eternal bliss preferred, 
 
 Long on this day a painful death to die, 
 
 Lest in the heavenly mansions of the sky 
 The servant be more favored than his Lord. 
 
 Man’s ancient mother weeps the deed, this day 
 That shut the gates of heaven against her race, 
 
 W eeps the two pierced hands, whose work of grace, 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 205 
 
 Refinds the path, from which she made man stray. 
 The sun his ever-burning ray doth veil; 
 
 Earth and sky tremble; ocean quakes amain, 
 And mountains gape, and living rocks are torn. 
 The fiends, on watch for human evil, wail 
 The added weight of their restraining chain. 
 Man only weeps not; yet was weeping born.” 
 
 As the previous extracts from the 
 works of Vittoria have been, as has 
 been stated, selected principally with a 
 view to prove her Protestantism, it is 
 fair to observe, that there are several 
 sonnets addressed to the Virgin Mary, 
 and some to various Saints, from which 
 (though they are wholly free from any 
 allusion to the grosser superstitions that 
 Pome encourages her faithful disciples 
 to connect with these personages), it is 
 yet clear that the writer believed in the 
 value of saintly intercession at the 
 throne of grace. It is also worth re¬ 
 marking, that she nowhere betrays the 
 smallest consciousness that she is dif¬ 
 fering in opinion from the recognized 
 18 
 
206 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 tenets of the Church, unless it he found, 
 as was before suggested, in an occa¬ 
 sional obscurity of phrase, which seems 
 open to the suspicion of having been 
 intentional. The great majority of 
 these poems, however, were in all prob¬ 
 ability composed before the Church 
 had entered on her new career of per¬ 
 secution. And as regards the ever- 
 recurring leading point of “justifica¬ 
 tion by grace,” it w T as impossible to say 
 exactly how far it was orthodox to go 
 in the statement of this tenet, until 
 Rome had finally decided her doctrine 
 by the decrees of the Council of Trent. 
 
 One other remark, which will hardly 
 fail to suggest itself to the modern 
 reader of Vittoria’s poetry, may be 
 added respecting these once celebrated 
 and enthusiastically received works. 
 There is not to be discovered through¬ 
 out the whole of them one spark of 
 Italian, or patriotic feeling. The ab- 
 
Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 207 
 
 sence of any such, must, undoubtedly, 
 be regarded only as a confirmation of 
 the fact asserted in a previous chapter, 
 that no sentiment of the kind was then 
 known in Italy. In that earlier portion 
 of her works, which is occupied almost 
 exclusively with her husband’s praises, 
 it is hardly possible that the expression 
 of such feelings should have found no 
 place, had they existed in her mind. 
 But it is a curious instance of the degree 
 to which even the better intellects of 
 an age are blinded by, and made sub¬ 
 servient to, the tone of feeling and 
 habits of thought prevalent around 
 them, that it never occurs to this pure 
 and lofty-minded Vittoria, in celebrat¬ 
 ing the prowess of her hero, to give a 
 thought to the cause for which he was 
 drawing the sword. To prevail, to be 
 the stronger, “ to take great cities,” 
 “ to rout the foe,” appears to be all 
 that her beau ideal of heroism required. 
 
208 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 Wrong is done, and the strong-hand¬ 
 ed doer of it admired, the moral sense 
 is blunted by the cowardly worship of 
 success, and might takes from right the 
 suffrages of the feeble, in the nineteenth 
 as in the sixteenth century. But the 
 contemplation of the total absence from 
 such a mind as that of Vittoria Colonna, 
 of all recognition of a right and a wrong 
 in such matters, furnishes highly in¬ 
 structive evidence of the reality of the 
 moral progress mankind has achieved. 
 
Vi t tori a Colonna. 
 
 209 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Return to Rome.—Her great reputation.—Friendship with 
 Michael Angelo.—Medal of this period.—Removal to Or- 
 vieto.—Visit from Luca Contile.—Her determination not 
 to quit the Church.—Francesco d’Olanda.—His record of 
 conversations with Vittoria.—Vittoria at Viterbo.—Influ¬ 
 ence of Cardinal Pole on her mind.—Last return to Rome. 
 —Her death. 
 
 Vittoria arrived in Rome from Fer¬ 
 rara in all probability about the end 
 of the year 1537. She was now in the 
 zenith of her reputation. The learned 
 and elegant Bembo 1 writes of her, that 
 he considered her poetical judgment as 
 sound and authoritative as that of the 
 greatest masters of the art of song. 
 
 1 Bembo. Opera, vol. iii. p. 65. 
 
 18 * 
 
210 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 Guidiccioni, the poetical Bishop ot 
 Fossombrone, and ot Paul Ill’s ablest 
 diplomatists, declares 1 that the ancient 
 glory of Tuscany had altogether pass¬ 
 ed into Latium in her person; and 
 sends her sonnets of his own, with 
 earnest entreaties that she will point 
 out the faults of them. Veronica 
 Gambara, herself a poetess, of merit 
 perhaps not inferior to that of Vittoria, 
 professed herself her most ardent ad¬ 
 mirer, and engaged Binaldo Corso to 
 write the commentary on her poems, 
 which he executed as we have seen. 
 Bernardo Tasso made her the subject 
 of several of his poems. Giovio dedi¬ 
 cated to her his life of Pescara, and 
 Cardinal Pompeo Colonna his book on 
 “ The Praises of Women ; ” and Con- 
 tarini paid her the far more remarkable 
 compliment of dedicating to her his 
 work <c On Free Will.” 
 
 1 Opere, ed. Ven., p. 164. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 211 
 
 Paul III was, as Muratori says, 1 by no 
 means well disposed towards the Colon- 
 na family. Y et Vittoria must have 
 had influence with the haughty and 
 severe old Farnese. For both Bembo, 
 and Fregoso, the Bishop of Naples, have 
 taken occasion to acknowledge that 
 they owed their promotion to the pur¬ 
 ple in great measure to her. 
 
 But the most noteworthy event of 
 this period of Yittoria’s life, was the 
 commencement of her acquaintance 
 with Michael Angelo Buonarroti. 2 That 
 great man was then in his 63d year, 
 while the poetess was in her 47th. The 
 acquaintanceship grew rapidly into a 
 close and durable friendship, which 
 lasted during the remainder of Yitto¬ 
 ria’s life. It was a friendship emi¬ 
 nently honorable to both of them. 
 Michael Angelo was a man whose in¬ 
 fluence on his age was felt and ac- 
 
 1 Annales, ad. ann. 1540. 
 
 2 Visconti, p. 128. 
 
212 
 
 Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 knowledged, while he was yet living 
 and exercising it, to a degree rarely ob¬ 
 servable even in the case of the greatest 
 minds. He had, at the time in question, 
 already reached the zenith of his fame, 
 although he lived to witness and enjoy 
 it for another quarter of a century. He 
 was a man formed by nature, and al¬ 
 ready habituated by the social position 
 his contemporaries had accorded to 
 him, to mould men—not to be moulded 
 by them—not a smooth or pliable man; 
 rugged rather, self-relying, self-concen¬ 
 trated, and, though full of kindness for 
 those who needed kindness, almost a 
 stern man ; no courtier, though accus¬ 
 tomed to the society of courts ; and apt 
 to consider courtier-like courtesies and 
 habitudes as impertinent impediments 
 to the requirements of his high calling, 
 to be repressed rather than condescend¬ 
 ed to. Yet the strong and kingly 
 nature of this high-souled old man was 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 213 
 
 moulded into new form by contact with 
 that of the comparatively youthful 
 poetess. 
 
 The religious portion of the great 
 artist’s nature had scarcely shaped out 
 for itself any more defined and sub¬ 
 stantial form of expression than a wor¬ 
 ship of the beautiful in spirit as well 
 as in matter. By Vittoria he was made 
 a devout Christian. The change is 
 strongly marked in his poetry ; and in 
 several passages of the poems, four or 
 five in number, addressed to her, he 
 attributes it entirely to her influence. 1 
 
 Some silly stuff has been written by 
 very silly writers, by way of imparting 
 the “ interesting ” character of a belle 
 passion , more or less platonic, to this 
 friendship between the sexagenarian 
 artist and the immaculate Colonna. 
 No argument is necessary to indicate 
 the utter absurdity of an idea which 
 
 1 So© Harford’s Michaol Angelo, voL ii. p. 148, et 86q. 
 
214 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 implies a thorough ignorance of the 
 persons in question, of the circum¬ 
 stances of their friendship, and of all 
 that remains on record of what passed 
 between them. Mr. Harford, whose 
 “ Life of Michael Angelo 75 has been 
 already quoted, was permitted, he says, 
 to hear read the letters from Vittoria 
 to her friend, which are preserved in 
 that collection of papers and memo¬ 
 rials of the great artist, which forms 
 the most treasured possession of his 
 descendants ; 1 and he gives the follow¬ 
 ing account of them : 2 
 
 “ They are five in number; and 
 there is a sixth, addressed by her to a 
 friend, which relates to Michael An¬ 
 gelo. Two of these letters refer in 
 very grateful terms to the fine draw¬ 
 ings he had been making for her, and 
 to which she alludes with admiration. 
 Another glances with deep interest at 
 
 * Note 4. 3 Harford’s Michael Angelo, vol. ii. p. 158. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 215 
 
 the devout sentiments of a sonnet, 
 which it appears lie had sent for her 
 
 perusal.Another tells him in 
 
 playful terms that his duties as archi¬ 
 tect of St. Peter’s, and her own to the 
 youthful inmates of the convent of St. 
 Catherine at Viterbo, admit not of 
 their frequently exchanging letters. 
 This must have been written just a 
 year before her death, which occurred 
 in 1547. Michael Angelo became 
 architect of St. Peter’s in 1546. These 
 letters are written with the most per¬ 
 fect ease, in a firm, strong hand; but 
 there is not a syllable in any of them 
 approaching to tenderness.” 
 
 The period of Vittoria’s stay in Pome 
 on this occasion must have been a 
 pleasant one. The acknowledged lead¬ 
 er of the best and most intellectual 
 society in that city ; surrounded by a 
 company of gifted and high-minded 
 men, bound to her and to each other 
 
216 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 by that most intimate and ennobling of 
 all ties, the common profession of a 
 higher, nobler, purer theory of life 
 than that which prevailed around 
 them, and a common membership of 
 what might almost be called a select 
 church within a church, whose prin¬ 
 ciples and teaching its disciples hoped 
 to see rapidly spreading and benefi¬ 
 cially triumphant; dividing her time 
 between her religious duties, her liter¬ 
 ary occupations, and conversation with 
 well-loved and well-understood friends; 
 —Vittoria can hardly have been still tor¬ 
 mented by temptations to commit sui¬ 
 cide. Yet in a medal struck in her honor 
 at this period of her life, the last of the 
 series engraved for Visconti’s edition 
 of her works, the reverse represents a 
 phoenix on her funeral pile gazing on 
 the sun, while the flames are rising 
 around her. The obverse has a bust 
 of the poetess, showing the features a 
 
Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 217 
 
 good deal changed in the course of the 
 six or seven years which had elapsed 
 since the execution of that silly Pyra¬ 
 mus and Thisbe medal mentioned in a 
 previous chapter, though still regular 
 and well formed. The tendency to 
 fatness, and to a comfortable-looking 
 double chin, is considerably increased. 
 She wears a singularly unbecoming 
 head-dress of plaited linen, sitting close 
 to and covering the entire head, with 
 long pendants at the sides falling over 
 the shoulders. 
 
 These pleasant Roman days were, 
 however, destined to be of brief dura¬ 
 tion. They were cut short, strange as 
 the statement may seem, by the impo¬ 
 sition of an increased tax upon salt. 
 For when Paul III resorted, in 1539, 
 to that always odious and cruel means 
 of pillaging his people, Ascanio Co¬ 
 lonna maintained that, by virtue of 
 some ancient privilege, the new tax 
 19 
 
218 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 could not be levied on his estates. The 
 pontifical tax-gatherers imprisoned cer¬ 
 tain of his vassals for refusing to pay; 
 whereupon Ascanio assembled his re¬ 
 tainers, made a raid into the Campagna, 
 and drove off a large number of cattle. 1 
 The Pope lost no time in gathering an 
 army of ten thousand men, and “ war 
 was declared ” between the sovereign 
 and the Colonna. The varying fortunes 
 of this “ war ” have been narrated in 
 detail by more than one historian. 5 * 
 Much mischief was done, and a great 
 deal of misery occasioned by both the 
 contending parties. But at length the 
 forces of the Sovereign got the better 
 of those ol his vassal, and the principal 
 fortresses of the Colonna were taken, 
 and their fortifications ordered to be 
 razed. 
 
 It was in consequence of these mis' 
 
 1 Coppi. Mem. Col., p. 306. 
 
 * Especially Adriani, Storia di suoi tempi. 
 
219 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 fortunes, and of that remarkable “ soli¬ 
 darity ’ which, as has been before ob¬ 
 served, united in those days the mem¬ 
 bers ot a family in their fortunes and 
 reverses, that Vittoria quitted Rome, 
 probably towards the end of 1540, and 
 retired to Orvieto. But the loss of 
 their brightest ornament was a mis¬ 
 fortune which the highest circles of 
 Roman society could not submit to 
 patiently. Many of the most influential 
 personages at Paul III.’s court visited 
 the celebrated exile at Orvieto, and suc¬ 
 ceeded ere long in obtaining her re¬ 
 turn to Rome after a very short ab¬ 
 sence. 1 And we accordingly find her 
 again in the eternal city in the August, 
 of 1541. 
 
 There is a letter written by Luca 
 Con tile, 2 the Sienese historian, dramatist 
 and poet, in which he speaks of a visit 
 
 1 Visconti, p. cxxvii. 
 
 2 Contile, Lettere, p. 19 ; Venice, 1564. 
 
220 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 he had paid to Vittoria in Eome in that 
 month. She asked him, he writes, for 
 news of Fra Bernardino (Ochino), and 
 on his replying that he had left behind 
 him at Milan the highest reputation for 
 virtue and holiness, she answered, “ God 
 grant that he so persevere ! ” 
 
 On this passage of Luca Contile’s 
 letter, Visconti and others have built a 
 long argument in proof of Vittoria’s 
 orthodoxy. It is quite clear, they say, 
 that she already suspected and lament¬ 
 ed Ochino’s progress towards heresy, 
 and thus indicates her own aversion to 
 aught that might lead to separation 
 from the church of Borne. It would 
 be difficult, however, to show that the 
 simple phrase in question had neces¬ 
 sarily any such meaning. But any 
 dispute on this point is altogether nu¬ 
 gatory ; tor it may be at once admitted 
 that Vittoria did not quit, and in all 
 probability would not under any cir. 
 
Vittorio, Colonna, 
 
 221 
 
 cumstances have quitted, the com¬ 
 munion of the Church. And if this 
 is all that her Romanist biographers 
 wish to maintain, they unquestionably 
 are correct in their statements. She 
 acted in this respect in conformity with 
 the conduct of the majority of those 
 eminent men whose disciple and friend 
 she was during so many years. And 
 the final extinction of the reformatory 
 movement in Italy was in great meas¬ 
 ure due precisely to the fact, that con¬ 
 formity to Rome was dearer to most 
 Italian minds than the independent as¬ 
 sertion of their own opinions. It may 
 be freely granted, that there is every 
 reason to suppose that it would have 
 been so to Yittoria, had she not been 
 so fortunate as to die before her pecu¬ 
 liar tenets were so definitively con¬ 
 demned as to make it necessary for her 
 to choose between abandoning them or 
 abandoning Rome. But surely all the 
 
222 
 
 Vittoria Colonna . 
 
 interest which belongs to the question 
 of her religious opinions consists in the 
 fact that she, like the majority of the 
 best minds of her country and age, as¬ 
 suredly held doctrines which Rome dis¬ 
 covered and declared to be incompatible 
 with her creed. 
 
 A more agreeable record of Vittoria’s 
 presence in Rome at this time, and an 
 interesting glimpse of the manner in 
 which many of her hours were passed, 
 is to be found in the papers left by one 
 Francesco d’ Olanda, 1 a Portuguese 
 painter, who was then in the eternal 
 city. He had been introduced, he tells 
 us, by the kindness of Messer Lattan- 
 zio Tolemei of Siena to the Marchesa 
 de Pescara, and also to Michael An¬ 
 gelo ; and he has recorded at length 
 several conversations between these, 
 and two or three other members of 
 their society, in which he took part. 
 
 1 Note 5. 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 223 
 
 The object of his notes appears to have 
 been chiefly to preserve the opinions 
 expressed by the great Florentine 
 on subjects connected with the arts. 
 And it must be admitted, that the con¬ 
 versation of the eminent personages 
 mentioned, as recorded by the Portu¬ 
 guese painter, appears, if judged by 
 the standard of nineteenth century no¬ 
 tions, to have been wonderfully dull 
 and flat. 
 
 The record is a very curious one even 
 in this point of view. It is interesting 
 to measure the distance between what 
 was considered first-rate conversation 
 in 1540, and what would be tolerated 
 among intelligent people in 1850. The 
 good-old-times admirers, who would 
 have us believe that the ponderous 
 erudition of past generations is dis¬ 
 tasteful to us, only by reason of the 
 touch-and-go butterfly frivolousness of 
 the modern mind, are in error. The 
 
224 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 long discourses which charmed a six¬ 
 teenth century audience, are to us in¬ 
 tolerably boring, because they are 
 filled with platitudes ;—with facts, in¬ 
 ferences, and speculations, that is, 
 which have passed and repassed through 
 the popular mind, till they have as¬ 
 sumed the appearance of self-evident 
 truths and fundamental axioms, which 
 it is loss of time to spend words on. 
 And time has so wonderfully risen 
 in value ! And though there are more 
 than ever men whose discourse might 
 be instructive and profitable to their 
 associates, the universality of the habit 
 of reading prevents conversation from 
 being turned into a lecture. Those who 
 have matter worth communicating, can 
 do so more effectually and to a larger 
 audience by means of the pen ; and 
 those willing to be instructed, can make 
 themselves masters of the thoughts of 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 225 
 
 others far more satisfactorily by the 
 medium of a book. 
 
 But the external circumstances of 
 these conversations, noted down for us 
 by Fi •ancesco d’Olanda, give us an 
 amusing peep into the literary lite ot 
 the Roman world' three hundred years 
 ago. 
 
 It was one Sunday afternoon that the 
 Portuguese artist went to call on Mes¬ 
 ser Lattanzio Tolemei, nephew ot the 
 cardinal of that name. The servants 
 told him, that their master was in the 
 church of San Silvestro, at Monte 
 Cavallo, in company with the Mar- 
 cliesa di Pescara, for the purpose of 
 hearing a lecture on the Epistles ot 
 St. Paul, from a certain Friar Ambrose 
 of Siene. Maestro Francesco lost no 
 time in following his friend thither. 
 And u as soon as the reading and the 
 interpretations of it were over,” the 
 Marchesa turning to the stranger, and 
 
226 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 inviting him to sit beside her, said ; u If 
 I am not mistaken, Francesco d’Olanda 
 would better like to hear Michael 
 Angelo preach on painting, than to 
 listen to Friar Ambrose’s lecture.” 
 
 Whereupon the painter, “ feeling 
 himself piqued,” assures the lady that 
 he can take interest in other matters 
 than painting, and that however will¬ 
 ingly he would listen to Michael An¬ 
 gelo on art, he would prefer to hear 
 Friar Ambrose when St. Paul’s epistles 
 were in question. 
 
 “ Do not be angry, Messer Frances¬ 
 co,” said Signor Lattanzio, thereupon. 
 “The Marchesa is far from doubting 
 that the man capable of painting may 
 be capable of aught else. We, in Italy, 
 have too high an estimate of art for 
 that. But, perhaps, we should gather 
 from the remark of the Signora Mar¬ 
 chesa the intention of adding to the 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 221 
 
 pleasure you have already had, that of 
 hearing Michael Angelo.” 
 
 “In that case,” said I, her “Excel¬ 
 lence would do only as is her wont;— 
 that is,to accord greater favors than one 
 would have dared to ask of her.” 
 
 So Vittoria calls to a servant, and 
 bids him go to the house of Michael 
 Angelo, and tell him, “that I and 
 Messer Lattanzio are here in this cool 
 chapel, that the church is shut, and 
 very pleasant, and ask him if he will 
 come and spend a part of the day with 
 us, that we may put it to profit in his 
 company. But do not tell him that 
 Francesco d’Olanda the Spaniard is 
 here.” 
 
 Then there is some very mild raillery 
 about how Michael Angelo was to be 
 led to speak of painting;—it being, it 
 seems, very questionable whether he 
 could be induced to do so ; and a little 
 bickering follows between Maestro 
 
228 
 
 Vittoria Golonna . 
 
 Francesco and Friar Ambrose, who 
 feels convinced that Michael will not 
 be got to talk before the Portuguese, 
 while the latter boasts of his intimacy 
 with the great man. 
 
 Presently there is a knock at the 
 church door. It is Michael Angelo, 
 who has been met by the servant as he 
 was going towards the baths, talking 
 with Orbino, his color-grinder. 
 
 u The Marchesa rose to receive him, 
 and remained standing a good while, 
 before making him sit down between 
 her and Messer Lattanzio.” Then, 
 “ with an art, which I can neither de¬ 
 scribe nor imitate, she began to talk ol 
 various matters with infinite wit and 
 grace, without ever touching the sub¬ 
 ject of painting, the better to make 
 sure of the great painter.” 
 
 “ One is sure enough,” she says at 
 last, “ to be completely beaten, as often 
 as one ventures to attack Michael An- 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 22 P 
 
 gelo oil his own ground, which is that 
 of wit and raillery. You will see, 
 Messer Lattanzio, that to put him down 
 and reduce him to silence, we must 
 talk to him of briefs, law processes, or 
 painting.” 
 
 By which subtle and deep-laid plot 
 the great man is set off into a long dis¬ 
 course on painters and painting. 
 
 “ His Holiness,” said the Marchesa, 
 after a while, “ has granted me the 
 favor of authorizing me to build a new 
 convent, near this spot, on the slope of 
 Monte Cavallo, where there is the ruin¬ 
 ed portico, from the top of which, it is 
 said, that Hero looked on while Borne 
 was burning; so that virtuous women 
 may efface the trace of so wicked a 
 man. I do not know, Michael Angelo, 
 what form or proportions to give the 
 building, or on which side to make the 
 entrance. Would it not be possible to 
 join together some parts of the ancient 
 20 
 
230 
 
 Vittorio, Colonna. 
 
 constructions, and make them available 
 towards the new building ? ” 
 
 “ Yes,” said Michael Angelo; “ the 
 ruined portico might serve for a bell- 
 tower.” 
 
 This repartee, says our Portuguese 
 reporter, was uttered with so much 
 seriousness and aplomb , that Messer 
 Lattanzio could not forbear from re¬ 
 marking it. 
 
 From which we are led to infer, that 
 the great Michael was understood to 
 have made a joke. He added, how¬ 
 ever, more seriously ; “ I think, that 
 your Excellence may build the propos¬ 
 ed convent without difficulty; and 
 when we go out, we can, if your Ex¬ 
 cellence so please, have a look at the 
 spot, and suggest to you some ideas.” 
 
 Then, after a complimentary speech 
 from Vittoria, in which she declares 
 that the public, who know Michael 
 Angelo’s works only without being ac 
 
Vittoria Oolonna. 
 
 231 
 
 quainted with his character, are igno¬ 
 rant of the best part of him, the lecture, 
 to which all this is introductory, begins. 
 And when the company part at its 
 close, an appointment is made to meet 
 again another Sunday in the same 
 church. 
 
 A painter in search of an unhack¬ 
 neyed subject, might easily choose a 
 worse one than that suggested by this 
 notable group, making the cooi and 
 quiet church their Sunday afternoon 
 drawing-room. 
 
 The few remaining years of Vittoria’s 
 life were spent between Rome and 
 Viterbo, an episcopal city some thirty 
 miles to the north of it. In this latter 
 her home was in the convent of the 
 nuns of St. Catherine. Her society 
 there consisted chiefly of Cardinal 
 Pole, the governor of Viterbo, her old 
 friend Marco Antonio Flaminio, and 
 Archbishop Soranzo. 
 
232 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 During these years the rapidly in¬ 
 creasing consciousness on the part of 
 the Church of the danger of the doc¬ 
 trines held by the reforming party, was 
 speedily making it unsafe to profess 
 those opinions, which, as we have seen, 
 gave the color to so large a portion of 
 Vittoria's poetry, and which had form¬ 
 ed her spiritual character. And these 
 friends, in the closest intimacy with 
 whom she lived at Viterbo, were not 
 the sort of men calculated to support 
 her in any daring reliance on the dic¬ 
 tates of her own soul, when these 
 chanced to be in opposition to the 
 views of the Church. Pole appears to 
 have been at this time the special 
 director of her conscience. And we 
 know but too well, from the lamentable 
 sequel of his own career, the sort of 
 counsel he would be likely to give her 
 under the circumstances. There is 
 an extremely interesting letter extant, 
 
Vittor ia Colonna. 
 
 233 
 
 written by her from Viterbo to the 
 Cardinal Cervino, who was afterwards 
 Pope Marcellus II, which proves clear¬ 
 ly enough, to the great delight of her 
 orthodox admirers, that let her opin¬ 
 ions have been what they might, she 
 was ready to “submit” them to the 
 censorship ot Pome. We have seen 
 how closely her opinions agreed with 
 those which drove Bernardino Ocliino 
 to separate himself from the Church, 
 and fly from its vengeance. Yet under 
 Pole’s tutelage she writes as follows :— 
 
 “ Most Illustrious and most Beverend 
 Sir, 
 
 “ The more opportunity I have had 
 of observing the actions of his Emi¬ 
 nence the Cardinal of England (Pole), 
 the more clear has it seemed to me 
 that he is a true and sincere servant of 
 Cod. Whenever, therefore, he charita¬ 
 bly condescends to give me his opinion 
 on any point, I conceive myself safe 
 
234 
 
 'Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 from error in following his advice. 
 And he told me that, in his opinion, 
 I ought, in case any letter or other mat 
 ter should reach me from Fra Bernar¬ 
 dino, to send the same to your most 
 Reverend Lordship, and return no an¬ 
 swer, unless I should be directed to 
 do so. I send you therefore the en¬ 
 closed, which I have this dav received, 
 together with the little book attached. 
 The whole was in a packet, which came 
 to the post here by a courier from 
 Bologna, without any other writing 
 inside. And I have thought it best not 
 to make use of any other means of send¬ 
 ing it, than by a servant of my own.” * * 
 She adds in a postscript: — 
 
 “ It grieves me much that the more 
 he tries to excuse himself the more he 
 accuses himself; and the more he 
 thinks to save others from shipwreck, 
 the more he exposes himself to the 
 
~Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 235 
 
 flood, being himself out of the ark which 
 saves and secures.” 1 
 
 Poor Ochino little thought probably 
 that his letter to his former admiring 
 and fervent disciple, would be passed 
 on with such a remark to the hands of 
 his enemies ! He ought, however, to 
 have been aware that princesses and 
 cardinals, whatever speculations they 
 may have indulged in, do not easily 
 become heretics. 
 
 She returned once more from Viter¬ 
 bo to Pome towards the end of the year 
 1544, and took up her residence in the 
 convent of Benedictines of St Anne. 
 While there she composed the Latin 
 prayer, printed in the note, 2 which has 
 been much admired, and which, though 
 not so Ciceronian in its diction as Bembo 
 might have written, will bear compari¬ 
 son with similar compositions by many 
 
 1 Visconti, p. cxxxi. Printed also by Tiraboschi, vol. 7. 
 3 Note 6. 
 
236 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 more celebrated persons. Several of the 
 latest of her poems were also written 
 at this time. But her health began to 
 fail so rapidly as to give great uneasi¬ 
 ness to her friends. Several letters are 
 extant from Tolomei to her physician, 
 anxiously inquiring after her health, 
 urging him to neglect no resources of 
 his art, and bidding him remember that 
 u the lives of many, who continually 
 receive from her their food—some that 
 of the body, and others that of the mind 
 —are bound up in hers.” 1 The celebrat¬ 
 ed physician and poet Fracastoro, was 
 written to in Verona. In his reply, 
 after suggesting medical remedies, he 
 says, “ Would that a physician for her 
 mind could be found 1 Otherwise the 
 fairest light in this world will, from 
 causes by no means clear (a non so che 
 strano modo) be extinguished and taken 
 from our eyes.” 2 
 
 1 Lettere del Tolomei. Venezia, 1578. 2 Visconti, p. cxxxiv 
 
Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 231 
 
 The medical opinion of .Fracastoro, 
 writing from a distance, may not be of 
 much value. But it is certain that 
 many circumstances combined to render 
 these declining years of Yittoria’s life 
 unhappy. The fortunes of her family 
 were under a cloud ; and it is probable 
 that she was as much grieved by her 
 brother’s conduct, as by the conse¬ 
 quences of it. The death also of the 
 Marchese del Yasto, in the flower of 
 his age, about this time, was a severe 
 blqw to her. Ever since those happy 
 early days in Ischia, when she had been 
 to him, as she said, morally and intel¬ 
 lectually a mother, the closest ties of 
 affection had united them ; and his loss 
 was to Yittoria like that of a son. Then 
 again, though she had perfectly made 
 up her mind as to the line of conduct 
 it behooved her to take in regard to any 
 difficulties of religious opinion, yet it 
 cannot be doubted that the necessity 
 
238 
 
 Vittoria Colonna. 
 
 of separating herself from so many 
 whom she had loved and venerated, 
 deserting them, as it were, in their 
 falling fortunes, must have been acutely 
 painful to her. Possibly also conscience 
 was not wholly at rest with her on 
 this matter. It may be that the still 
 voice of inward conviction would some¬ 
 times make obstinate murmur against 
 blindfold submission to a priesthood, 
 who ought not, according to the once 
 expressed opinion of the poetess, to 
 come between the creature and his 
 Creator. 
 
 As she became gradually worse and 
 weaker, she was removed from the con 
 vent of St. Anne, to the neighboring 
 house of Giuliano Cesarini, the husband 
 of Guilia Colonna, the only one of her 
 kindred then left in Pome. And there 
 she breathed her last towards the end 
 of February, 1547, in the 57th year of 
 her age. 
 
Vittoria Golonna. 
 
 239 
 
 In her last hours she was visited by 
 her faithful and devotedly attached 
 friend Michael Angelo, who watched 
 the departure of the spirit from her 
 frame ; and who declared, 1 years after¬ 
 wards, that he had never ceased to re¬ 
 gret, that in that solemn moment he 
 had not ventured to press his lips for 
 the first and last time, to the marble 
 forehead of the dead. 
 
 She had directed that her funeral 
 should be in all respects like that of 
 one of the sisters of the convent in 
 which she last resided. And so com¬ 
 pletely were her behests attended to, 
 that no memorial of any kind remains 
 to tell the place of her sepulchre. 
 
 1 Condivi. Vita. 
 
TO THE 
 
 LIFE OF YITTORIA COLONNA. 
 
 1.—Page 49. 
 
 Guiliano Passeri, the author of the diary quoted in tb* 
 text, was an honest weaver, living by his art at Naples 
 in the time of Ferdinand of Spain and Charles Y. His 
 work appears to have been composed wholly for his 
 own satisfaction and amusement. The entire work iff 
 written in the form of a diary. But as the first entry 
 records the coming of Alphonso I to Naples, on “thL*? 
 day the 26th February, 1443,” and the last describe. 1 ? 
 the funeral of the Marchese di Pescara, Yittoria’s hus 
 band, on the 12th May, 1526, it is difficult to suppos' 
 that these could have been the daily jottings of one 
 and the same individual, extending over a period of 
 83 years, although it is possible that they may have 
 been so. As the work ends quite abruptly, it seems 
 
Notes. 
 
 241 
 
 reasonable to suppose that it was carried on till the 
 death of the writer. The probability is, that the 
 memorials of the earlier years are due to another pen 
 The work is written in Neapolitan dialect, and con 
 cerns itself very little with aught that passed out of 
 Naples. It has all the marks of being written by an 
 eye-witness of "the circumstances recorded. The ac¬ 
 counts especially of all public ceremonies, gala-doings, 
 etc., are given in great detail, and with all the gusto 
 of a regular sight-seer. And the book is interesting as 
 a rare specimen of the writing and ideas of an artisan 
 of the 16th century. 
 
 It was printed in a 4to volume at Naples in 1785, 
 and is rather rare. 
 
 2.—Page 99. 
 
 These false ducats gave rise, we are told, to the 
 king’s saying, that his wife had brought him three 
 gifts:— 
 
 Faciem pictain, 
 
 Monetam fictam, 
 
 to which the ungallant and brutal royal husband add¬ 
 ed another, the statement of which ending in “stric- 
 tam,” is so grossly coarse, that it cannot be repeated 
 here, even with the partial veil of its Latin clothing. 
 
 3.—Page 125. 
 
 The translations of the sonnets in the text have been 
 given solely with the view of enabling those, who do 
 
242 
 
 Notes . 
 
 not read Italian, to form some idea of the subject-mat¬ 
 ter and mode of thought of the author, and not with 
 any hope or pretension of presenting any thing that 
 might be accepted as a tolerable English sonnet. In 
 many instances the required continuation of the 
 rhyme has not even been attempted. If it be asked, 
 why then were the translations not given in simple 
 prose, which would have admitted a yet greater ac¬ 
 curacy of literal rendering ?—it is answered, that a 
 translation so made would be so intolerably bald, flat, 
 and silly-sounding, that a still more unfavorable con¬ 
 ception of the original would remain in the English 
 reader’s mind that that, which it is hoped may be pro¬ 
 duced by the more or less poetically-cast translations 
 given. The originals, printed in every instance, will 
 do justice (if not more) to our poetess in the eyes of 
 those acquainted with her language, for the specimens 
 chosen may be relied on as being not unfavorable 
 specimens. And many readers, probably, who might 
 not take the trouble to understand the original in a 
 language they imperfectly understand, may yet, by 
 the help of the translation, if they think it worth 
 while, obtain a tolerable accurate notion of Vittoria’s 
 poetical style. 
 
 4.—Page 214. 
 
 When Mr. Harford heard these letters read, the ex¬ 
 ceedingly valuable and interesting museum of papers, 
 pictures, drawings, etc. a’Michael Angelo, was the 
 
Notes. 243 
 
 property of his lineal descendant, the late minister of 
 public instruction in Tuscany. When dying, he be¬ 
 queathed this exceedingly important collection to the 
 
 Community, or corporation of Florence. The Tuscan 
 law requires that the notary who draws a will, should 
 do so in the presence of the testator. Unfortunately, 
 on the sick man complaining of the heat of the room, 
 the notary employed to draw this important instru¬ 
 ment, retired, it seems, into the next room, which, as 
 a door was open between the two chambers, he con¬ 
 ceived was equivalent to being in presence of the 
 testator, as required by law. It has been decided, 
 however, by the tribunals of Florence, that the will 
 was thus vitiated, and that the property must pass 
 to the heirs at law. An appeal still pending (Sep¬ 
 tember, 1858) lies to a higher court; but there is 
 every reason to believe that the original judgment 
 must be confirmed. In the mean time, the papers, 
 etc., are under the inviolable seal of the law. 
 
 5.—Page 222. 
 
 The MS. of Francois de Holland, containing the 
 notices of Vittoria Colonna, given in the text, is to 
 be found translated into French, and printed in a 
 volume entitled, “Les Arts en Portugal, par le Comte 
 A. Raczynski. Paris, 1846.” 
 
 My attention was directed to the notices of Vittoria 
 to be found in this volume, by a review of M. Deu- 
 mier’s book on our poetess, by Signor A. Reumont, 
 inserted in the fifth volume of the new series of the 
 “ Archivio Storico Italiano, Firenze, 1857,” p. 138. 
 
244 
 
 Notes . 
 
 6.—Page 235. 
 
 The prayer written by Vittoria Colonna is as fol¬ 
 lows :— 
 
 “Da, precor, Domine, ut ea animi depressione, qine 
 humilitati mese convenit, eaque mentis elatione, quam 
 tua postulat celsitudo, te semper adorem; ac in timore, 
 quem tua incutit justitia, et in spe, quam tua demen¬ 
 tia permittit, vivam continue, meque tibi uti potentis- 
 simo subjiciam, tanquam sapientissimo disponam, et 
 ad te ut perfectissimum et optimum convertar. Obse- 
 cro, Pater Pientissime, ut me ignis tuus vivacissimus 
 depuret, lux tua clarissima illustret, et amor tuus ille 
 sincerissimus ita proficiat ut ad te nullo mortalium 
 rerum obice detenta, felix redeam et secura.’ 
 
INDEX. 
 
 - *- 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAG 
 
 Cnanges in the Condition of Italy.—Dark Days.—Cir¬ 
 cumstances which led to the Invasion of the French. 
 
 —State of things in Naples.—Fall of the Arragonese 
 Dynasty.—Birth of Yittoria.—The Colonna.—Marino. 
 
 —Vittoria’s Betrothal.—The Duchess di Franca- 
 villa.—Literary Culture at Naples.—Education of 
 Yittoria in Ischia,. 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 fittoria’s Personal Appearance.—First love.—A Noblo 
 Soldier of Fortune.—Italian Wars of the Fifteenth 
 and Sixteenth Centuries.—The Colonna Fortunes.— 
 Death of Ferdinand II.—The Neapolitans carry Coals 
 to Newcastle.—Events in Ischia.—Ferdinand of 
 Spain in Naples.—Life in Naples in the Sixteenth 
 Century.—Marriage of Pescara with Yittoria.—Mar¬ 
 riage Presents.87 
 
246 
 
 Index. 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Vittoria’s Married Life.—Pescara goes where Glory 
 awaits Him.—The Bout of Kavenna.—Pescara in 
 Prison turns Penman.—His “Dialogo di amore.”— 
 Vittoria’s Poetical Epistle to her Husband.—Vittoria 
 and the Marchese del Vasto.—Three Cart-loads of 
 Ladies, and three Mule-loads of Sweetmeats.—Charac¬ 
 ter of Pescara.—His Cruelty.—Anecdote in Proof 
 of it,.6^ 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Society in Ischia.—Bernardo Tasso’s sonnet thereon.— 
 How a wedding was celebrated in Naples in 1517.— 
 A Sixteenth Century trousseau.—Sack of Genoa. 
 —The Battle of Pavia.—Italian conspiracy against 
 Charles V.—Character of Pescara.—Honor in 1525.— 
 Pescara’s treason.—Vittoria’s sentiments on the occa¬ 
 sion.—Pescara’s infamy.— Patriotism unknown in 
 Italy in the Sixteenth Century.—No such sentiment 
 to be found in the writings of Vittoria.—Evil influ¬ 
 ence of her husband’s character on her mind.—Death 
 
 of P 6SC3Xcl 9 •• ••••*•* 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Vittoria, a Widow, with the Nuns of San Silvestro. 
 —Keturns to Ischia.—Her Poetry divisible into two 
 classes.—Specimens of her Sonnets.—They rapidly 
 attain celebrity throughout Italy.—Vittoria’s senti¬ 
 ments towards her Husband.—Her unblemished 
 Character.—Platonic Love.—The Love Poetry of the 
 Sixteenth Century,. 
 
Index 
 
 247 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Vittoria in Rome in 1530.—Antiquarian rambles.—Tyra- 
 mus and Thisbe medal.—Contemporary commen¬ 
 tary on Yittoria’s poems.—Paul the Third.—Rome 
 again in 1536.—Visit to Lucca.—To Ferrara.—Prot¬ 
 estant tendencies.—Invitation from Giberto.—Re¬ 
 turn to Rome,.149 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Oratory of Divine Love.—Italian Reformers.—Their 
 tenets.—Consequence of the doctrine of Justification 
 by Faith.—Fear of Schism in Italy.—Orthodoxy of 
 Vittoria questioned.—Proofs of her Protestantism 
 from her writings.—Calvinism of her Sonnets.—Re¬ 
 markable passage against Auricular Confession.— 
 Controversial and religious Sonnets.—Absence from 
 the Sonnets of moral topics.—Specimen of her poeti¬ 
 cal power.—Romanist ideas.—Absence from the Son¬ 
 nets of all patriotic feeling,.170 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Return to Rome.—Her great reputation.—Friendship 
 with Michael Angelo.— Medal of this period.—Re¬ 
 moval to Orvieto.—Visit from Luca Contile.—Her 
 determination not to quit the Church.—Francesco 
 d’Olanda.—His record of conversations with Vittoria. 
 —Vittoria at Viterbo.—Influence of Cardinal Pole on 
 ler mind.—Last return to Rome.—Her death, . . 20S 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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