The Hunchbacks know of truths that mortals do not know. There is a famous painting that still exists in our time that has caused some mortals to ponder a question for centuries, "Who is the lady in the portrait?" A tale was told to one hunchback by the spirit of a Renaissance lady who had a unique smile. This tale spread by word of mouth through generations of hunchbacks until it reached the last and he wrote her memoirs down so all would know. And no longer ponder the question....
Venice was the birthplace of my father, Cesare Orsini. It was there that I was born in 1474, Anna Marie Orsini, named after my father's beloved grandmother. My mother lived in a state of nearly constant pregnancy. She had married my father at the age of twenty, gave birth to five children in seven years, with numerous miscarriages. Only my older brother and I survived. My father chose a live-in wet nurse to relieve my mother of my daily care. I was raised, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, and taught at home by a tutor. My tutor was a humanist who educated me in the subjects of classics, history, and philosophy as well as the traditional subjects. I grew up to be the ideal Renaissance hostess, graceful, attractive, courteous and well educated.
My birthplace is unique among European cities. Instead of streets, the city had canals. My father's business is in the Rialto (business district) which lies along a stretch of the Grand Canal that winds through the center of Venice. Traders from all over the world crowd the docks to buy and sell goods. The center of the city life and my favorite place is Saint Mark's Square. The Cathedral of Saint Mark is at the east end of the square. It was built in the shape of a Greek cross, with a dome over the center and four smaller domes on the arms of the cross. It is a beautiful example of Byzantine architecture with the interior richly adorned with marble and mosaics. Next to the cathedral is the doge's (duke's) palace, built in Gothic style.
Venice is governed by the doge, but the real power is in the hands of a small group of merchant families. My family is a member of this ruling group known as the Council of Ten, they pass the laws and elect the doge. Loyal Venetians of the city-state report any suspicious behavior of citizens to the Council of Ten by placing a letter stating the accusations in special boxes found throughout the city. Accused persons are immediately arrested and brought before the council members. My father and other council members then meet in secret to decide the quilt or innocence of the person.
Upon my 20th birthday my father arranged my marriage as if it were another of his business transactions. He arranged for me to marry the nephew of the King of Naples who was ten years my senior. I still remember my future father-in-law giving his son advise about choosing a wife, of course I was not supposed to be listening. But who could help but not hear his boisterous voice. "My son," said he, "you must choose a woman who is well made for bearing children, with the kind of constitution that promises to make them strong and big. When you pick your wife, you choose your children." My future husband was skilled in art, science, sports and politics. We were married in Venice. After we were married he spent long hours at work and his leisure time talking to the "populo grasso" (fat people) in the piazzas when he wasn't in the taverns. It was just a few months later that my husband's brother married, Lucrezia, the daughter of Rodrigo Borgia. Rodrigo Borgia had been named Pope Alexander VI in 1492. My husband's loyalty to his uncle, the King of Naples, lead him to his grave. He returned to Naples when the French cavalry and Swiss mercenaries of Charles VII of France invaded Italy. We were married less than a year when Naples was conquered and he was killed by a Swiss mercenary. His funeral was held in the Church of San Giovanni near the equestrian statue of General Bartolomeo Colleoni known for the impression it creates of nobility and power. Instead of returning to my husband's parental household, I returned to my family.
I perceived my marriage as more of a familial alliance or business transaction than a love match and therefor could not find it within myself to grieve for my husband. Venetians love elaborate parades and ceremonies and I was no exception. Each year a ceremony is held on the Grand Canal to celebrate Venice's mastery of the sea. It had only been a few months since my husband's death but I decided to attend the ceremony. My mother and I were dressed in brightly colored long flowing dresses made of silk and velvet. Each dress had a tight bodice and high neckline as was the style of the time. My father looked very handsome in his rich colored tights and tunic with brightly colored cloak as we watched the ceremony. The ruling doge, dressed in gold robes, traveled down the Grand Canal on a gold-covered gondola. From the gondola, the doge threw a gold ring into the waters as he said, "We wed the sea in honor of our everlasting rule."
The following year I became the wife of Leon La Gioconda, we were married in the Church, with Pope Alexander VI's blessing. My father had made my choices regarding marriage very limited. My dowry was an investment on which my father expected a return. I learned quickly to accept affectionately and unresistingly Leon's habits and wishes. Compatibility was not a feature my father considered in matchmaking, but despite this I grew to love my husband. Leon was also a merchant on the Grand Canal as my father. He was the eldest son and had inherited the family business and its most important possessions. We lived on the top floor of the building that housed his business. The La Gioconda family was a close-knit family which lived and worked together in the same neighborhood.
During the next seven years, I bore Leon five children, two were stillbirths. Two sons, Sandro and John Paul, and a daughter, Catherine, survived. We took in domestic servants to help with the household tasks. The servants were daughters of poor families who had been sent away from their family home and entered into domestic service in order to have their marriage dowry provided by their master. Leon was responsible for overseeing every aspect of the upbringing of the children, even choosing wet nurses for them.
In the Spring of 1503, I accompanied my husband on a trip to Florence to purchase textiles. The Ottoman Turks had captured Venetian trade and colonies to the east, so Leon bought textiles in Florence for his business. Leon had made arrangements to stay at the home of a friend of his family, an elderly gentleman in his fifties. This man had been Leon's father's best friend and had named Leon after him. This elderly gentleman was now a member of a commission of artists who were to decide on the proper location for the colossal marble statue, David. While we were in Florence he started painting my portrait, he said it was because of my unique smile. My portrait became his favorite, in fact it went everywhere with him. But that is, how you say, another story. We returned to Venice with the textiles and my husband made a considerable amount of profit.
The next few years were uneventful, I governed our domestic life, while Leon worked long hours in the business. Sandro was learning the family business under the watchful eye of his father. John Paul was attending a school based on humanist principles, learning new studies studia Humanitatis or the humanities, that had been set up in Venice. Catherine was being taught at home by a humanist tutor. Pope Julius II had hired the son of a Florentine official to decorate a small ceremonial chapel in Rome and the work was completed. Leon and I took a trip to Rome to see what Michelangelo had done. Michelangelo's painted figures had well formed muscular bodies that expressed vitality and power, I was speechless with astonishment. Never before I had seen such beauty.
We returned to Venice earlier than expected, Leon had developed severe pain in his joints. I called the family physician upon our return who prescribed powdered pearls for Leon's pain. After that Leon complained of stomach pains. In a few weeks, Leon was feeling better and returned to his business. In the summer, I developed a dry cough, fever and aching muscles and joints. Leon called for the physician who prescribed powdered pearls, as he had done when Leon was ill. But my condition deteriorated, instead of getting better, my head pounded, and I could not keep food down. Everyone thought I would feel better in a few weeks like Leon, but they were wrong. This would be my last summer. I died of influenza in the same bed where I had brought the lives of my children into the world.
Copyright 1997
Lesley Kroenke
