The Fashionable Prostitute: Part 2

Rated R for Raucous Content

On the evening of October 30th 1501, Johanna Burchard made his way through Rome’s windy streets and followed the smell of roasting pig flesh and warmed chestnuts wafting out of the Vatican Palace. As Master of the Ceremonies, he was expected to attend every fete hosted by Pope Alexander VI and his son Cesare Borgia, but he had grown tired of the endless parties. Night after night, the Borgias celebrated the forthcoming marriage between the pope’s daughter, Lucrezia and her betrothed, Alfonso d’este.

As Burchard entered the dimly lit apartments, the low sounds of swishing velvet enveloped him as fifty beautiful courtesans beckoned him inside. Pearls, rubies and emeralds coiled around their necks and down their low cut gowns like overgrown vines strangling a tree. Rubbing his tired eyes, Burchard recognized the sumptuously dressed blonde, known as Fiammetta, strumming her lute above the banquet table. She was Cesare’s mistress and was rumored to be so rich that she had commissioned an entire fresco to be painted in the church of S. Agostino. Across the room a plump, golden haired beauty with reddened earlobes sang before her admiring crowd, demurely lowering her eyes to see who was watching. She was known as Imperia, the most beautiful women he had ever laid eyes on and the cherished muse of Raphael.  The rest of the women were nestled in corners flirting with Rome’s finest nobleman, only occasionally lifting their heads to let their silver bell laughter fill the room.

These women were not your typical meretrici (prostitutes), but members of a ruling class called cortigiana (courtesans) and they were not just beautiful ornaments, but educated in art, music, dance, poetry and most importantly, conversation. Yet, if we are to believe Burchard’s account, their greatest talents were in the art of making love. In the darker pages of his diary, Burchard writes:

 “After supper the lighted candelabra which had been on the table were placed on the floor, and chestnuts thrown among them which the prostitutes had to pick up as they crawled between the candles. The Pope, the Duke and Lucrezia, his sister, were present looking on. At the end they displayed prizes of silk mantles, boots, and other objects which were promised to whomsoever should have made love to these prostitutes the greatest number of times. The prizes were distributed to the winners according to the judgement of those present.”(1)

Understandably, the pope failed to make it to mass the next day.

Burchard (who was no friend of the Borgia) is the only person to relay such louche details so historians have long wondered if the famous “banquet of the chestnuts” is perhaps a little exaggerated. Still, we can imagine that your typical Borgia get-together probably did not have the pin the tail on the donkey type of party games.  We also can only guess at who attended this infamous orgy. Cesare, Lucrezia and Alexander were there, but we do not know if their famed mistresses attended. One thing is for certain. Any party thrown by the diabolical Cesare Borgia would have had the most desired women at his beck and call. 

The reign of the Borgias was the golden age for courtesans. Wealthy courtesans rode through the streets throwing gilded eggs filled with rose water or coyly sang from their windows down to their admirers below. Prostitution became so ubiquitous that Pietro Aretino’s  (best remembered for his contributions to the Book of the Prick) cantankerously observed that “Rome always has been and ever will be….the town of whores.” 

Aretino’s views may have been colored by his animosity toward the Romans after he was forced to flee Venice. Rome was certainly not the only city where prostitution was rampant.  Venice especially became celebrated for the classical beauty of their art, architecture and women. Estimates vary, but there were roughly 11,000 prostitutes servicing 300,000 inhabitants.

With so many prostitutes and courtesans, how could a typical traveler tell the difference between a puttana (whore) and respectable matrona (married woman)? Your lower class courtesans were usually easier to spot.  They dressed like men wearing braghesse (codpieces) and dresses cut so low that it revealed their breasts. Most fantastic of all were the shoes.  Venetian prostitutes wore shoes that would have intimidated even the most daring super models of today. Called pianelles, they were made of wood and elevated the wearer as much as a foot above the ground. You can see from the picture above that navigating a dirty street would be next to impossible without the help from a suitor or two.   

Your higher priced onesta cortegiana (honest courtesan) dressed so well that it would often be very difficult to tell them apart from the rest of patriarchal society. This was a problem not just in Venice and Rome, but throughout Italy. It was especially problematic when they attended mass. You have to remember that church was the fashion runway of the day and often the only chance most women got to show off their wares. So we can imagine that if you were a respectable noble woman and some hussy pranced by you wearing more glitter than a Christmas tree that it would start to unnerve you. Eventually, the class wars led to the upstanding socielities of Florence to put pressure on the Grand Duke to enact sumptuary laws for all courtesans. Prostitutes were not allowed to wear gold, silver, gemstones, or silk. That meant no fancy pearls. (This led to the practice of prostitutes flashing their necks to show that they were unadorned.) Florence’ prostitutes were also required to wear a yellow veil with a big, tacky yellow stripe on it known as “the whore’s mirror.”  If you wanted to find a prostitute in Florence, you just had to follow the yellow stripes like a road map.

Now dear reader, in these tough economic times, I hope you can relate to the sentiment that everyone has to make a living. Telling a courtesan that she can’t wear her pearls is kind of like telling a fire fighter he can’t use a hose.  Most courtesans simply ignored the sumptuary laws or were granted special dispensations to dress as they please. Such was the case with famed courtesan and prolific writer, Tullia d’ Aragona  who pulled a few “favors” from the Duke and was allowed to dress like a noblewoman.  As educated women and skillful conversationist, most courtesans sought to distance themselves from the common prostitutes. Lucieta Padovana was indignant regarding the sumptuary laws arguing, “non reptandose meretrice” but instead a “cortesana” (2). (Basically…I am not some common prostitute. I am a courtesan. Big difference. )

Still sumptuary laws persisted and often became difficult to keep track of. In Florence, prostitutes were required to wear gloves, wooden high heels, and a bell on her headpiece (assumingly so everyone could hear her siren jingle coming.) In Bergamo 1490, a saffron colored scarf was required. In Piedmonth, they had to decorate their headgear with horns.  In Milan, they were required to wear white in 1492, black in 1498, white again in 1541. You could see how all of this would get confusing for the common traveler. As they say, necessity is the mother of invention, or at least it was for Crispijn de Passe the elder whose best seller, the Miroir (1603) became the defacto guide for seeking out fashionable courtesans.

to be continued in Part 3 of the Fashionable prostitute…

Notes:
(1) Bradford, p. 121
(2) Rosenthal, p. 72

Sources and Further Reading:

Bradford, Sarah. Lucrezia Borgia: Life, Love and Death in Renaissance, Penguin 2005
Rosenthal, Margaret. The Honest Courtesan, University of Chicago Press, 1993
Rosenthal, Margaret F. and Jones, Ann Rosalind. The Clothing of the Renaissance World, Thames and Hudson, 2008

A Most Dangerous Game

Treacherous, Corrupt, Self-serving. Say what you will about Milan’s Visconti family, but they sure knew how to play cards in style.  The Visconti Tarot (also know at the Cary-Yale deck) may be one of the oldest set of playing cards in existence. The ornately painted, gold-leaf deck was created by Bonifacio Bembo between 1428-1447. We do not know who commissioned it, but its owner was most likely the third duke of Milan, Filippo Maria Visconti. Filippo was an avid card player and astrologist paying 1500 gold pieces for another set of cards containing gods, animals and birds.  

The image above depicts the Knight of Swords, but interestingly instead of the usual male figure, the cards show a demure woman wearing a balzo (her hairstyle) surrounded by some serious bling. Due to the female depiction, it is believed the deck was used by a court lady. My guess would be Maria di Savoia, second wife of Filippo Maria Visconti, but the woman in the card may be a portrayal of Filippo's previous wife - Beatrice di Tenda. 

Queen of Hope
Beatrice was the wealthy window of condottiero and defacto ruler of Milan, Facino Cane. On his deathbed, Facino encouraged Beatrice to take Filippo as her husband to secure an alliance with the Visconti family. Although she was twenty years his senior, Filippo was willing to look past such things when the misses came with a hefty dowry and an army of soldiers ready to die for her. While the people of Milan adored Beatrice, Filippo’s resentment toward her and her more popular dead husband grew daily. He increasingly ignored her and fixed his attentions on his mistress Agnes de Maino. In her solitude, Beatrice surrounded herself with men of letters including one unfortunate musician named Orombello.

You can guess what followed. Filippo accused Beatrice of having an affair with Orombello and threw them in the castle dungeon. Set to the rack, Orombello confessed, but Beatrice remained steadfast in her innocence. It hardly mattered. Both were condemned to die without a trial. Fearing the people’s outrage at what was basically a judicial murder, he ordered Beatice’s to be decapitated under cover of darkness. After a few more rounds of torture to get that confession, Beatrice di Tenda was executed at the Castle of Binasco in 1418.

The Card of Hope

What is also of note is the cards of Faith, Charity and Hope (shown above), which were not usually included in a 15^th century deck. Notice that the figure of Hope is chained to an anchor while a man at her feet is bound to the same anchor. In Renaissance art, St. Peter is usually depicted at the feet of Faith, but the card of Hope may have a more literal translation.  

In 1428, Filippo married Maria di Savoia and her dad reigned as antipope Felix V.This deck of cards may have been given to Maria as a wedding gift with a potent reminder of what became of his previous wife.

Today, Beatrice’s legacy lives on in the tragic opera by Vincenzo Bellini, but could she also be portrayed in the card of Hope?

You can see more of these beautiful images at the Beinecke Rare Books & Manuscript Digital Collection.  Just search by "Visconti Tarot."

Sources and Further Reading:
The Beinecke Rare Books & Manuscript Library, Call Number ITA 109
Kaplan, Stuart & Huet, Jean, The Encyclopedia of Tarot, Volume II, US Game Systems, 1986.
Buell Hale, Sarah Josepha, Woman's record; or, Sketches of all distinguished women, from "the beginning" till A.D. 1850. Arranged in four eras. With selections from female writers of every age, Nabu Press, 2010

Going to the Chapel – Renaissance Style

In August of 1447, Alessandra Strozzi wrote to her son, Filippo about the upcoming marriage between her daughter Caterina and the wealthy silk merchant, Marco Parenti. In this letter she wryly tells her son, “He who marries is looking for cash.” (1)

I have never understood why couples re-enact Italian Renaissance marriages for their wedding when a typical marriages was about as romantic as haggling with a used car salesman. They were long, expensive and often resulted with the poor bride stuck with a lemon. If you have ever had to plan a wedding or been stuck in a bridesmaid’s dress resembling a puffed pastry then you will feel for the poor darlings of Renaissance Italy. Here were the steps to tie the knot:

Step 1

Negotiations begin

Informal inquiry was made usually by a sensale (the professional match maker of their day) or by relative or patron. The job of this intermediary was to determine how much money the girl's family could throw down and make sure she was not missing any limbs or other deal breakers.

Step 2

The dowry is drawn up

Today, we start saving for college funds at an early age, but in the Renaissance, parents would start saving for a daughter’s wedding as soon as she popped out. For most aristocrats, the whole process could start in infancy and not be finalized until the girl was a teenager.  The parents also needed time to come up with that much cash. By the 16^th century, a noble girl’s dowry could be well over 1000 Florins. And then there were more extreme examples. Pope Alexander VI sent his daughter Lucrezia Borgia’s off into matrimonial bliss with Giovanni Sforza with a dowry of 31,000 ducats. By the time she was on huband #3 Alfonso d’Este, Alexander had to up the kitty to over 200,000 ducats. (Her reputation was getting a bit tarnished by then.)

Step 3 

Impalmare - The shaking of the hands

This step took place in a church between a mediating notary and representative from both families. This was the time to raise any objections because after it was done the couple was now legally bound to marry. Unfortunately, the bride was not present so she had little say.

Step 4

The wooing begins

You might think those window scenes during Romeo and Juliet were a bunch of fluff, but typically the groom would begin his courtship below his bride’s window. After the impalmare, grooms would bring his bride presents usually in the form of jewelry and clothing. In turn, the bride would throw from her window to her groom tokens of her esteem such as scarves, flowers, fruits, nuts or chunks of salami. (2) The groom usually paid for her cassoni (wedding chest) and also sent some trinkets in the form of dresses, jewels and headdresses. During the marriage negotiations of Caterina Strozzi and Marco Parenti, he gave her a gown of crimson velvet and silk along with a garland of feathers and pearls which caused her venal mother to note that, “When she goes out she’ll have more than four hundred florins on her back. “ (3)

Step 5

Sponsalia or sometimes called the Anellamento, Matrimonium or ring day

Now it was time for the big day.  This ceremony typically took place in the bride’s house and was witnessed by family members from both sides. The couple wore their best clothes with red being the most popular color for brides. (Often the bridal dress was designed by the groom. )

You think grooms get bridal jitters today, you should have seen what those crazy Renaissance kids from Rome had to endure. During the ceremony, a big sharp sword was hung over the heads of the soon-to-be happy couple just so they wouldn't get any last minute indecisiveness. A notary would then ask the appropriate questions prescribed by the church and then the groom would take the right hand of woman and place nuptial ring on her third finger. (It was believed a major vein went from the third finger to the heart.) Gifts from the husband were then given to bride and his in-laws.

The couple was now considered man and wife….almost.

Step 6

Nozze - The big party.

The shenanigans that followed the Sponsalia could last several days or even a week. The bride’s cassoni was carried through the streets to her husband’s house and placed in the couple’s bedroom. The bride was either carried through the streets or rode on a white palfrey to be formally welcome into her new home. If you lived in Rome, grain and vegetables were thrown out the window (much harder than rice if you get bonked on the head) and the public would heckle the groom with the old Renaissance version of “ball and chain” jokes.

The music, dancing and banquet that followed could be pretty lavish often involving over 300 guests. Eventually, the extravagance for the banquets got so out of control that sumptuary laws had to be enacted to control spending.

Step 7 

The Consummation

During the consummation a bride and groom would retire to their chambers while a notary recorded the event. This event didn’t always take place right after the Nozze. Sometimes, the bride continued to live in her father’s house, especially if the dowry had not been fully paid. For example, Cosa Guasconi's marriage took three years to be consummated because her groom, Paolo Niccolini was waiting for her dowry to be fully paid. 

Step 8 

La messa del congiunto 

After the consummation, men in Renaissance Italy could not just roll over and fall asleep. A religious ceremony had to be said after the deed was done in order to bless the union. So much for privacy.

Wheeeew. Writing this post has been exhausting, so you can imagine how tiring it must have been to be the bride and groom. Of course, If a young couple wanted to circumvent these steps and run away all they needed to make the marriage legal were two mutual consenting live bodies. Clandestine marriages were common enough that by 1563, the Council of Trent put into law the above required steps for a legal wedding thereby killing the last bit of romance in Renaissance Italy. 

Notes:

(1) p. 31 Biblioteca Italiana, Volume 9

(2) The Salami was a joke. I am just really hungry right now.

(3) (p. 31 Biblioteca Italiana, Volume 9 ).

Sources and Further Reading:

http://www.bibliotecaitaliana.it/

‪ Macinghi Strozzi, Alessandra and Gregory, Heather. Biblioteca Italiana, Volume 9‬, University of California Press, 1997.

‪ Dean, Trevor and Lowe K. J. P. Marriage in Italy, 1300-1650‬, Cambridge University Press, 2002.

Images from the Heilborn Timeline of Art History and Courtauld Museum
Love and Marriage in Renaissance Florence - exhibition at the Courtauld Musuem

Raucous Royal of the Month: Cesare Vecellio and the Renaissance Runway

History is indebted to Cesare Vecellio and his 16^th century best-selling book of costumes. Vecellio’s gossipy commentary not only catalogs the clothing customs from Italy, France, Germany, China, India, Africa, Middle East and New World, but also gives us a glimpse into marriage customs, architecture, morals and perceptions of beauty.

Cesare was born in Cadore, a northern town of Venice in 1521. He was most likely apprenticed to Titian’s brother, Francesco Vecellio and then later worked for Titian. (Titian was his cousin once removed) Cesare drew upon numerous sources including wall paintings in Padua, old frescoes and portraits in private houses, various Venetian painters, booksellers and his own travels.

In The Clothing of the Renaissance World by Margaret F. Rosenthal and Ann Rosalind Jones, Cesare’s commentary is translated and beautifully printed into one breathtaking, gigantic 560 page work of art. This book is crack for Renaissance lovers.  If you are a costume designer, Renaissance author, illustrator or just fascinated by the clothing of this period, I strongly recommend that you get this book. (Link below)

Here are some of my favorites:

Does this hat make my head look fat?

 Lady Gaga has nothing on the Balzo headdress. This Renaissance version of the beehive was composed of a willow or metal frame and then covered with hair, fabric, ribbons and jewels. tres glamorous!

Oh, no. My large intestine is on my head!

The Dogalina was worn by nobleman and was distinguished by its ridiculously wide sleeves. You have to imagine that these sleeves would often end up in your soup. Cesare fails to comment on the hat.

Don’t Laugh. You would overcompensate too if you were wearing these pants.

Freud would have had a field day with this Persian foot soldier. Vecellio described his costume as, “ practical and worn by people who have to fight in situations calling for agility and speed.” (1) But the phallic hat must have slowed him down.

Darn it.  Botticelli made this look so easy.  

If you think today’s beauty standards are hard, you should have seen what the Venetian lovelies had to go through. Going blonde in Renaissance Venice was de rigueur for every young lady, but those Botticelli locks didn’t come easy.  Women would sit on special rooftops designed just for dying their hair called a terrazzo. They would then wear a large brimmed hat with a hole in the center called a solona and soak their hair with sponges dipped in liquid (composed of quick lime and other noxious ingredients.) The process took all day and Cesare was not a fan of such vanities.

Girlfriend….Pants are so last century.

It may seem like this young Venetian lad is showing a bit too much buttocks, but his look was the epitome of virtue. How do we know this?  The circlet of gold he wears around his head was only worn by virgins.

Notes:

p. 506, Jones and Rosenthal

Sources and Further Reading: 

Rosenthal, Margaret F. and Jones, Ann Rosalind. The Clothing of the Renaissance World, Thames and Hudson, 2008

Cesare Vecellio Site

Lorenzo Lotto and more winged babies up to no good

The above painting, Venus and Cupid  by Lorenzo Lotto depicts a naughty Cupid taking target practice on the nubile bride (represented by Venus) as rose petals cascade across her body. What could have been a romantic wedding night is wrecked by that darn cupid showing up. And clearly, you can see by Venus' pained expression that she would like to strangle cupid with her bridal wreath.

Supposedly, the painting is an allegorical love poem and is described by most art historians as “playful”.* Cupid aiming through the myrtle bridal wreath symbolizes the groom penetrating his new bride while his "playful" christening gives the new bride fertility. I just see it as yet another example of winged babies up to no good. 

*Next time I hear an art historian use the word "playful" to describe this painting, I would like to make them change my baby boy’s diaper in a crowded, restaurant bathroom....after a long drink. Then they wouldn't think it was so “playful.”


Image source:
The Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History

Louise Labe: Love and History is a Battlefield

In 1548, Henri II and his newly raised mistress Diane de Poitiers, the Duchesse of Valentinois, were making their official entrance into Lyons. (His wife, Catherine de Medici was to arrive the next day after Diane.) The people of Lyons pulled out all the stops to honor Diane plastering the city with references to the Goddess Diana and her black and white colors. A tourney followed with ladies tokens wrapped around lances, trumpets blazing and the chivalric ideals that had not yet faded into story books.

Enter one lithe knight waving a banner with the motto Belle a Soi (Beautiful to Oneself) who had had a particular good day breaking lances and beating the competition for Diane de Poitiers’ attention. (No one really cared about impressing the queen.) Diane and Henri then requested an interview with this valorous knight, but when the knight lifted his visor, a gasp admited from the crowd....out tumbled the golden hair of Louise Labe.

Louise Labe was a multi-talented heroine, horsewoman, archer, dancer, singer, musician and even martial artist. Oh and she could also belt out Petrarchan verse with the steamy rocker poise of Pat Benatar in an 80s MTV video. Daughter and wife of a ropemaker, this lion-hearted poet raised herself out of an illiterate background and shattered the patriarchal mold with her distinct battle cry for women to, “raise their minds slightly, above their falstaffs and bobbins”. (1)

In love, Louise let out a more fervent battle cry writing lyrical sonnets in Italian and French. One of my favorites:

Sonnet IV - When Love Arrives

When Love arrives, I hide myself away,
Though filled by burning torments of desire,
That scorch and sear and scar my breast with fire,
And flames devour my heart both night and day.

O how I feel the harsh travails of Love!
The wounds and devastating dreams of death
Descend on me whenever I draw breath,
And so I sigh although I make no move.

The more Love comes, the more I am besieged.
I gather up my forces, yet I fear
The crack in my defenses may be fatal.

O archer Love, who scorns both gods and mortals,
You draw your bow and aim your shafts for all,
Then stab our hearts despite our fortress walls.

Louise was born between 1515 and 1524 at Parcieu en Dombes near Lyon, a haven for writers and humanist thinkers. Around 1543, Louise married a doting sugar daddy who afforded her a life of luxury and the freedom to follow her artistic pursuits. In Lyons, she opened up an intellectual salon to which suitors flocked to hear her coo, “As long as I can pluck the lute, I try. To sing about your charms in my refrain. As long as I can think, my fevered brain. Is burning with an ardent zeal. I cry. In 1555, her heady Oeuvres were printed by the renowned Lyonnais printer Jean de Tournes and became a best seller.

Louise died after 1566, probably due to plague. After her death, detractors couldn’t wrap their jaundiced minds around a woman publishing such passionate poetry. In 1584, John Calvin denounced Louise as a courtesan and whore and she became known as "la Belle Cordière" (the beautiful ropemakers wife). In 2006, professor and author Mireille Huchon argued that Louise Labe’s poetry was really written by the men who frequented her intellectual circle - Maurice Scève, Olivier de Magny, Claude de Taillemont, Jacques Peletier du Mans, Guillaume des Autels, and others, and by the publisher Jean de Tournes.

I confess that I have not read Huchon’s book (because it is in French and my French ends with ordering my Café au Lait) but her poems seem far too consistent to be written by a group of ghost writers and forgive me for being so naïve… but they just don’t sound like the work of a man. Plus, Jean de Tournes published other works by female writers including Marguerite de Navarre's Marguerites de la Marguerite des Princesses (1547) and far more caustic feminist tracks like Franqois Habert's Nouvelle Iuno, Nouvelle Pallas, and Nouvelle Venus (1545, 1547).

Debate still continues on Louise Labe's life as a poet, but she won't be the first Renaissance lady reduced to sex pot over intellectual siren. Perhaps Louise knew better than anyone when she wrote, "I see my fate, and it’s a bitter pill."

Notes:
(1) p.411 Rigolot.

Sources and Further Reading
Louise Labé and the "Climat Lyonnois", François Rigolot, The French Review, Vol. 71, No. 3 (Feb., 1998), pp. 405-413, American Association of Teachers of French.
M. Wilson, Katharina. Women writers of the Renaissance and Reformation, Athens, Ga.: University of Georgia Press, 1987.
Louise Labe's poetry

Answer #12: Raucous Royal of the Month- Guidobaldo II della Rovere

OMD....is that a codpiece?You might think a swirly shaped codpieces is just another example of Over-indulgent Masculine Drivel in the Renaissance art scene.(what I refer to as OMD) But the backward curved shape was actually a protective talisman to ward off syphilis and prevent copulation. Guidobaldo's showy codpiece might be another example of fidelity. But faithful to whom? Yes, there is another love story here....

Guidobaldo was an Italian Condottieri who became Duke of Urbino after his father, Francesco Maria's assasination in 1538 (shown right). At the time of his portrait, he had fallen in love with Clarice Orsini, the daughter of Gian Giordano Orsini and famed Renaissance beauty, Felice della Rovere. Unfortunately, the Orsini were mortal enemies of Guidobaldo's father, Francesco Maria and no priest or poison was ever going to allow these two crazy, Romeo and Juliet lovebirds to marry. Instead, Francesco Maria betrothed his son to the wealthy heiress, Giulia da Varano. A series of cantankerous letters between father and son ensued where Guidobaldo was told that he would obey or forfeit his inheritance.

What would our red clad Lothario choose? Unfortunately, Guidobaldo had more to fear than just destitution. Francesco Maria was not a man you disobeyed unless you wanted to swim in the Tiber. He had killed a cardinal with his bare hands and worked hard to garner a reputation of utter ruthlessness.


Clarice's mother, Felice della Rovere put the brakes on the two lovers by whisking her daughter off to marry Don Luigi Carafa. Heartbroken, Guidobaldo acquiesced and married Giulia. To celebrate their wedding, he gave Giuila the portrait known today as Venus of Urbino by Titian. (He called it la donna nuda.) You might be thinking - ahhhh isn't that sweet. Hold that thought. The portrait was meant as an instructive model for Giulia on how to act like the correct Renaissance model/fertility goddess...but no pressure. Renaissance nudes were sometimes placed in the private chambers of nobles as ummm....inspiration. It was believed that looking at beautiful women would incite the couple's fertility.

We don't know the identity of this ideal Renaissance beauty. Possible suspects are one of Guidobaldo's mistresses (there were A LOT), Titian's mistress or even Guidobaldo's mother, Eleonora Gonzaga. Yes, that makes the gift even more creepy, but there is a startling resemblance.

Back to Guidobaldo's portrait....It was commissioned in 1532 by Angelo Bronzino to commemorate his eighteenth birthday. He places one hand on his helmet and the other on his dog possibly to indicate a successful future career as a soldier. The inscription on the helmet reads, "I will surely be true to the goal that I sang of." What exactly Guidobaldo was humming is left for the viewer to decide, but we can guess that it was not a love ballad to his family. The inscription is also in spitting distance to his swirly codpiece and some historians have theorized that its close proximity is symbolic of Guidobaldo sticking it to his dad.(1) Really? I don't know? If Guidobaldo really wanted to send a hostile message to his father, he could have written it on his codpiece. Then, there would be no confusion.*

But clearly, the ornery pooch represents serious daddy issues. That dog is definitely about to rip off your arm.

There is plenty more scandal around the della Rovere family and if you are interested in a really good read then I highly recommend The Pope's Daughter: The Extraordinary Life of Felice della Rovere by one of my favorite authors, Caroline Murphy (author of The Murder of a Medici Princess.

Notes:
*Yes, that was a joke. (1) Brock p. 49

Sources and Further Reading:
Brock, Maurice. Bronzino, New York, NY: Flammarion, 2002.
Murphy, Caroline. The Pope's Daughter: The Extraordinary Life of Felice della Rovere, Oxford University Press, USA, 2005.

Answer #8

Codpiece #8 Don Carlos (Carlos, Prince of Asturias)
This painting is by Sofonisba Anguissola(1558) and was painted at about the time Don Carlos was 14.* Boys always wore miniature versions of adult clothing at this age so his codpiece is very similar to his father's clothing.

At the time of the painting, Don Carlos was starting to exhibit the fruitfulness of royal inbreeding. We can see hints of these demons in his misshapen head and hunched back that the artist failed to disguise. Don Carlos had your typical happy royal childhood spent mostly in seclusion torturing small animals and chasing young girls about the palace. All ended poorly when he was found at the bottom of some steps with an awfully bad knock to his noggin. Don Carlos was bled and trepanned, but a terrible fever had gripped him and it appeared that he would die shortly.

Will your mummy make you feel better or some homemade soup?
In desperation, the Duke of Alba suggested that the mummified body of Franciscan Diego de Alcala be placed in Don Carlos' bed and had balms applied from a Morisco doctor. Whether it be the balms, the bleeding, the trepanning, or the mummy...Don Carlos recovered and lived another day to torture more helpless animals. (My guess is the trepanning saved him.) But as can be imagined, head injuries usually don't cure crazy people and Don Carlos' temper and insanity only got worse. On one occasion, his shoemaker was forced to cut up and eat the boots he had made because they were the wrong size.

By now, word had got out that Don Carlos was not exactly a royal catch on the husband market. (Mary Queen of Scots was suggested, but negotiations fell through.) His codpiece was also rumored to be lacking the right tools to produce an heir and the bouts of violence didn't endear him to most future brides. Finally, when Don Carlos' madness proved too much for even Philip, he had him locked away in a tower and fed some homemade soup....one part broth, the other part poison.

* Many of Sofonisba Anguissola's works have been confused with works by Alonso Sánchez Coello. Wikipedia lists this painting by Sánchez Coello.

Answer #3

Codpiece #3 Charles V (The Downward Dog)

This portrait is by Titian (1532). The first thing you might notice about Charles' codpiece is its curious shape. It sort of resembles a bifurcated croissant. Crescent shapes were associated with the Turks and their conventions toward stricter morality. Unlike their European neighbors, the Turks did not suffer from widespread syphilis outbreaks due to their abstemious attitudes toward sexuality. (Seeing a syphilitic patient's nose fall off can do that to a person.) So while it may seem like Charles is ostentatiously advertising his masculinity he may be emphasizing fidelity over virility.*

Charles' codpiece also points downward instead of out or up like Henry VIII's and Francis' codpiece. The purpose of this design may have been to prevent any embarrassing bulges.** Could the croissant-shaped codpiece be a kind of Renaissance chastity belt?

You will also notice that the dog is rather intimately close to the object of our discussion. Titian just loved to put dogs in his paintings so it's hard to know if the dog has meaning or if Titian just wanted yet another dog in the portrait. If you want to analyse it....dogs typically represented fidelity, strength and courage in Renaissance art depending on what the dog was doing and the breed of dog. The primary purpose of the larger mastiffs was to defend their masters so this dog may represent loyalty. Personally, I think the dog is just about to do that thing that dogs love to do.

*Charles was rumored to have contracted syphilis but we have no proof that these rumors were true.
**Really, that works? I hate when I can't test a theory.

Raucous Royal of the Month: Lucrezia Borgia and her many Loves

When you hear the name Lucrezia Borgia, many can’t help but think of the woman popularized in operas and fiction novels as the most infamous femme fatale in history. Rumors abound of the poisons, like La Cantarella, that Lucrezia was quick to dust upon her guest’s foods. In one colorful tale, Lucrezia had a poisoned ring with a hidden needle which she used to prick her enemies and secretly murder them.

Today, we know that the tales of poisoning are complete rubbish, but her family cannot be forgiven so easily. Born the bastard daughter of Pope Alexander VI (Rodrigo Borgia), Lucrezia was surrounded by intrigue and decadence during the height of the church’s corruption. The year she was born, 1480, marked the flowering of Renaissance art and literature, but also a time where it was commonplace for Popes to have concubines and poisoning one’s enemies was considered a gentleman’s way of removing political obstacles. Machiavelli wrote of Alexander VI that he, 'never did or thought of anything but deceiving people. ' Machiavelli was especially fond of Lucrezia's diabolical brother, Cesare Borgia who would later become his role model for political ambition along with the poster child for syphilis.

Even by Renaissance standards, growing up a Borgia was like living a life straight out of the Godfather. Dinner guests had a habit of winding up dead and late night antics often involved a few debauched orgies. And just like true Renaissance godfathers, they epitomized Don Vito Corlione's mantra of “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” At the time, Italy was broken up into a bunch of warring city states where the Pope had to form outside alliances quickly and deftly to stay in control. In the heart of these shifting alliances, Lucrezia became a valuable bargaining chip in the marital market. Unfortunately, Lucrezia’s husbands also came with expiration dates. Her family would hitch her to one man, but when the political alliance ceased to serve its purpose, they would find another match more suitable. This left Lucrezia with the helpless title of “pawn” and also made her a few enemies quick to spread rumors.

Bachelor #1
Though careful bribes, Alexander bought himself a pope’s hat in 1492 and soon began looking for a suitable match for his beloved daughter. Lucky bachelor #1 was Giovanni Sforza, a man twice Lucrezia’s age and a bit too dull to inspire much passion in his new wife. But Giovanni came with an alliance to the powerful Milanese family so Alexander threw enough ducats at him to help him forget Lucrezia's illegitimate status. A few years later, the doting father came to the conclusion that his daughter could do better and decided to divorce Lucrezia and Giovanni on the grounds that Giovanni was impotent. Although non-consummation, was commonly used to dissolve marriages, something about the title of "impotent" just rubbed Giovanni the wrong way. That’s when the mud slinging began. Right about this time, a nasty rumor began circulating that Alexander was sleeping with his daughter. No one can prove the rumor today but my guess is that being a veteran soldier, Giovanni might have been fighting his divorce with words instead of weapons.

No one could seem to come up with a solution to the mess until Giovanni’s buddy, Ludovico Sforza (il Moro) suggested that they hold a public performance where a few qualified men could judge Giovanni’s…ahh performance. We don’t know exactly what Lucrezia thought of this suggestion, but she did decide to run away to a nunnery. Eventually, Giovanni figured out that fighting the divorce was a worthless cause that would only end up with him broke or swimming with the fishes in the Tiber River. He conceded to the charge of impotence and let his next wife prove the contrary. (He went on to father a child by her).

Bachelor #2
Alexander next decided to form and alliance with Alfonso of Aragon. Although a bastard too, Alfonso came with the backing of his father, the King of Naples and the boyish good looks that made all the ladies swoon. Lucrezia did her fair share of swooning too and was soon expecting her first child with Alfonso. All would have ended happily if Alexander had not changed his mind yet again and decided that an alliance with King Louis XII of France would suit him better. He began negotiating with Louis to marry Lucrezia's brother, Cesare to a french princess—an alliance that was in direct opposition to Lucrezia’s marriage with Alfonso. At the time, Louis was attempting to gobble up Naples which made him no friend to Alfonso's Arogonese family.

In fear of his life, Alfonso headed for the hills leaving a 6 months pregnant Lucrezia behind. Lucrezia begged her father to assure Alfonso that he would not be harmed and the runaway newlywed returned to see the birth of his first son. But if Alfonso believed a promise from a Borgia, then he was a bit of a fool. One night, he was stabbed from behind on the steps of St. Peters. His half-dead body was dragged home to a distraught Lucrezia who nursed him back to health. While Alfonso was recuperating, Alexander appointed a guard to watch him, but the guard must have taken a coffee break because someone crept in and strangled Alfonso. Suspicious? Certainly. Many people assumed that Cesare ordered the killing with the blessing of Alexander. Lucrezia was so heart-broken that her father and brother had to send her away because they could not stand to hear her weeping while they were trying to whoop it up during all those lavish banquets.

Bachelor #3
Lucrezia's third marriage alliance was quite a coup considering that Alfonso d’Este, Duke of Ferrara (shown here), came with a pedigree that was well out of her league. Alfonso was the son of Ercole d’Este and had enough legitimacy to snub his blue blood nose at his new bride. At first, he was downright disgusted to marry Lucrezia and sent his spies to Rome to dig up some dirt. Unfortunately, his spies couldn't come up with much and Alfonso was forced to marry Lucrezia. Over time, Alfonso seemed to care deeply for Lucrezia despite the fact that their marriage was not exactly the paradigm of marital fidelity. He was rather fond of his prostitutes and Lucrezia had her share of dalliances while Alfonso was out cavorting with lowlifes.

Lucrezia's affairs
Lucrezia may have had an affair with the great poet Pietro Bembo (shown here). It is possible that Pietro’s love for Lucrezia was more of the chivalrous kind where he would never tarnish the object of his affection with base actions. It's also possible that he restrained himself because he didn't want to end up hanging from the rafters. Whether chivalry or true passion, their love letters would certainly make even the biggest cynic blush. Here is one of my favorites:

Bembo to Lucrezia:
The supreme cause which at the start did give
Things created their measure and their state
Willed me to love you and accept my fate
To manifest the faith whereby we live.
As virtues from that principle derive,
Ruler, moderator, sole joy innate
Whose face the fortunate may contemplate
Who seeling peace by grace abounding strive,
Yours is the radiance which makes me burn,
And growing with each act and gracious word
My joy in seeing you is never done.
Nor for my restlessness is there reward
Higher than yourself, wherefore I turn
To you, as heliotrope looks to the sun.

Lucrezia was also linked with Francesco Gonzaga (shown here), husband of one of her greatest rivals, Isabella d’Este. This affair seems more plausible given his over-sexual nature, but again cannot be proven. Francesco had a fondness for young boys, horses, and prostitutes that eventually ended with him having a bad itch in his nether regions. He broke off his affair with Lucrezia when the syphilitic pustules became a turn off.

Lucrezia Borgia: Dumb Blond or Savvy Entrepreneur?
Because her family was so notorious for debauchery and violence (I have barely touched the surface of all the scandals), much of what we know of Lucrezia is seen only through the eyes of the men that manipulated her. But was she just an abused pawn in her family’s political gain? Recent research shows that Lucrezia had many entrepreneurial talents and amassed her wealth through many careful investments in land reclamation. Using her persuasive nature, she settled border disputes and unlike other women of her day, held the titled to her investments. Sure, she spent an inordinately long time washing her hair, but she also spoke 5 languages, was trusted to handle her father affairs while he was absent, became a great patron of the arts and supported many charities.

In 1519, Lucrezia Borgia died giving birth to her eighth child. Alfonso was so grieved that he fainted at her funeral. Lucrezia and Alfonso did come to share a mutual respect and understanding, but her greatest love may have been the family she obeyed despite her own heart.

Sources and Further Reading:
Bradford, Sarah. Lucrezia Borgia - Life, Love And Death In Renaissance Italy, New York:NY, Viking 2004
Bellonci, Maria. Lucrezia Borgia, New York:NY, Phoenix 2002.
Translated by: Shankland, Hugh. The Prettiest Love Letters in the World, Boston:MA, David R. Godine, 1987.
Diane Yvonne Ghirardo, “Lucrezia Borgia as Entrepreneur.” Renaissance Quarterly 61 (2008): 53-91.

Royal Monkey Business

I’ve been thoroughly enjoying the binge drinking monkeys over at Got Medieval, but why should the medieval revelers have all the fun? You can find plenty of monkey antics in royal courts too.

For example, take the Medici court. Despite their reputation as the omnipotent godfathers of Florence, they loved a good monkey prank just as much as the next person. Some of this monkey business can be found in the following account describing a scuffle between the Medici court’s favorite dwarf, Pietro Barbino (possibly depicted in the this statue) and a ferocious monkey:

“There was a bit of entertainment in the form of a combat between the dwarf and a really good monkey that belongs to the Provveditore.The dwarf had two injuries, one in the shoulder and the other in the arm, while the monkey was left with his legs crippled. The monkey eventually gave up and begged the dwarf for mercy. The dwarf, however, didn’t understand the monkey’s language and having seized the monkey by the legs from behind, kept beating his head on the ground. If My Lord the Duke [Cosimo I de’ Medici] hadn’t stepped in, the dwarf would have gone on to kill him. The dwarf fought naked, having nothing to protect him except a pair of undershorts that covered his private parts. Suffice it to say that the dwarf was the victor and he won ten scudi in gold, which had been secured by pledging the ring of the Bishop of Forlì [Bernardo de’ Medici].”
Archivio di Stato di Firenze, Mediceo del Principato 1171, insert 2, folio 62 (Entry 6488 in the "Documentary Sources" database.)

When was the last time you saw a naked dwarf wrestle an angry monkey? If Cosimo had not stepped in…all my scudi would have been on the naked dwarf. And what if the monkey had put up a better fight? Well then we might not ever appreciate this great piece of art immortalizing Pietro Barbino flashing his bits in the Boboli gardens. Monkeys can change the course of history.

Monkey Portraits
And like the medieval monkeys (which btw would be a great name for a children’s book), royal monkeys were also portrayed in art. Pet monkeys were the hairless dogs of their day. Only the rich could afford them in their menagerie so they became regal status symbols. They also gave a lighthearted feel to a painting and could more directly symbolize controling your monkey lust. The painting to the left is of Catherine of Aragon and is believed to have been commissioned around 1530. An earlier painting depicting the same subject is dated at 1525. Around this time, Henry VIII started to monkey around (sorry...couldn't resist) with Anne Boleyn and began seeking a divorce from Catherine. This divorce would eventually lead to his break from the Catholic Church.

Notice how the monkey grabs at the cross. Could the monkey symbolize Henry? Is the artist saying, “Henry's a silly monkey to go against the Catholic religion” Or maybe the monkey symbolizes Anne Boleyn and the artist is saying, “you’re a fool to play with religion. And btw, you look like a monkey.”

Anne did hate monkeys so my guess is on the latter.

Love Me...Love my Monkey
In Catherine the Great's court, every courtier fought for an audience with the young, foppish favorite of the queen - Plato Zubov. Zubov was an audacious 22 to Catherine's 60, but age didn't matter much to the ailing queen. Catherine trusted Zubov enough to handle the political dredgery of meeting with generals, foreigners and royal butt kissers in search of favors. Yet royal courtiers best hold on to their wigs if they sought a meeting with Catherine's studly gatekeeper. Zubov's monkey was known to amuse both himself and his master by jumping on shoulders and stealing wigs right off the heads of unsuspecting visitors. The eager courtiers were forced to endure, but everyone knows that there is nothing funny about a monkey stealing your wig.

I am sure there are plenty more monkey tales, but those are the ones that stick out in my mind.

Sources and Further Reading:
The Medici Archive Project. Referenced online at: http://www.medici.org/news/dom/dom012002.html
MacDonogh Katherine. Reigning Cats and Dogs. New York, NY: St. Martin's Press, 1999.
Troyant, Henri. Catherine the Great. New York, NY: Penguin Group 1994