Leonardo: Masterpieces in Milan: The Life and Travels of da Vinci, #2

By Catherine McGrew Jaime

Leonardo da Vinci came to Milan a broke, unemployed artist. He left Milan 16 years later as a broke, unemployed artist, fleeing the French. But in the years in between he worked for Duke Lodovico, painting the Last Supper, designing an Equestrian Monument, planning several wedding festivities, and much more.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Catherine Jaime
• Release date: Jul 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393470182

Catherine McGrew Jaime

Catherine has a passion for writing, traveling, and history that spans decades. One topic she goes back to again and again is Leonardo da Vinci. After teaching her first classes about this incredible Renaissance man, she wrote her first non-fiction book about him, Da Vinci: His Life and His Legacy. His Life and His Legacy joined countless other non-fiction books she had already written, including, but certainly not limited to, An American Looks at Wuerzburg, Sharing Shakespeare with Students, and Stars Over Central America (her journal of a trip from the Panama Canal Zone across Central America when she was nine-years-old). It would be many years later before she would try her hand at writing fiction, not surprisingly turning first to historical fiction. She started with one novel on her favorite topic, Leonardo the Florentine, showcasing some of his adventures as an apprentice and during his early years as an artist. That first novel is on its way to becoming the nine book series, The Life and Travels of Da Vinci. Catherine’s first published short stories included The Attack in Cappadocia, The Attack at Shkodra, and The Attack on Wuerzburg – all historical fiction, of course, and all available individually, or together in The Attack Trilogy. She recently published her first short story about Leonardo da Vinci, in the anthology, Touch the Sky, Stories Inspired by the Saturn V. (Yes, she did manage to find a way to connect Leonardo to the Saturn V.)

Book preview

Chapter One

Leonardo kicked the small stones in front of him on the road. It was hard not to get discouraged by the large mountains looming in front of him. He had to get through to the city of Bologna on the other side before he would allow himself a real rest.

In the meantime, he tried to keep his focus on walking. Leonardo had never been this far from home and it would have been nice to have time to stop and draw some of the new sights he was seeing. He wanted to sketch the goats grazing in the mountain pastures. He would have liked to draw the deep green forests he had never before encountered. But, he scolded himself, there would be time for that at some point in the future. For now, he needed to keep walking. It was almost sixty miles across the mountains to Bologna. His desire was to complete the first leg of his trip in less than a week.

As he walked, Leonardo reviewed his letter. He had written it and rewritten it so many times he had almost memorized it. He was applying for a position with the Duke, Lodovico Sforza of Milan. If Prince Lorenzo didn’t want his services, he could certainly get work elsewhere.

Leonardo frowned as he thought of Lorenzo de Medici. He wasn’t really a prince, he just thought of himself as one. And since the assassination of his brother, and the attempt on his own life, Lorenzo traveled through Florence as well guarded as any prince ever had.

But Leonardo smiled as he thought of his carefully crafted letter of introduction to the Duke. He knew that the Duke was constantly concerned about defending his castle and his city and Leonardo wanted to offer his services in that area. During his last years in Florence, war had been a constant threat, and he had drawn up plans for countless defensive machines that he was confident the Duke would find useful.

He had started the letter with the description of the portable bridges he had designed. He was sure those had the most potential, both for offensive and defensive uses. Leonardo sighed as he thought of all the time he had spent creating war machines while in Florence. For a man who hated war, he had spent an awful lot of his time thinking about it and planning for it. He was sure his time would have been better spent on some of his other inventions, but if war provisions were what the duke or the prince wanted, who was he to argue?

He went back in his mind to the letter. How had he put the next portion? Oh yes, he had talked about dealing with sieges. That was certainly an important part of a good defense.

And then there were catapults, just as important to a good offense. Leonardo was sure he had designed the best catapult ever built. When he had finished describing these various machines in his letter, he had remembered that the Duke might have use of some of his other services, too, and had gone on to tell him he could even take care of his painting needs and make sculptures out of marble, bronze, or clay.

Having heard that the Duke desired to have an equestrian monument built for his father much like the one Leonardo had briefly helped Verrocchio with, he had finished the letter with a passing mention of his abilities along those lines, and had assured Lodovico that he could also handle making his bronze horse.

Writing the letter had given Leonardo some pleasant distractions before he left Florence, and reviewing it helped pass some of the time on this dusty road. As Leonardo continued to walk slowly along the road, he shifted the weight of his bag from time to time, and thought back to his home in Florence. Most of the young men he had apprenticed with were already busy with their own new families or had moved on to other cities to open newer and bigger studios of their own.

But Leonardo had stayed – stayed in the city that had become his home, with its familiar walls and churches and shops that he could almost walk through with his eyes closed.

But as each year had gone on, he had struggled to keep his own small studio open. He had no trouble keeping himself and his one apprentice busy. But busy was not the same as profitable. And money had grown scarcer every year. For quite a while Leonardo had held out hope that the Medici family, the most powerful family in Florence, would finally appreciate his work and offer him some of the large commissions Verrocchio had always received. But he had waited long enough; the commissions were not coming. And his mentor, Verrocchio, had recently moved to Venice, helping Leonardo to finally make up his mind.

Leonardo had sent his one apprentice to work for his old friend Roberto, and closed up his own small workshop, and here he was, alone in the world, making his way north to Milan. He had been told that the route was long, almost two hundred miles, but mostly on well-traveled roads, so he should be fairly safe from the roadside bandits that liked to attack unsuspecting travelers. Besides, thought Leonardo, they could take one look at him and know they had nothing to gain by taking all of his valuables. At that, he smiled again. No one but him could see the value in most of what he was carrying.

He had packed up the many sketches he had drawn over the years, a few of his small clay models, and his silver lyre, carefully made in the shape of a horse’s head. He had managed to sell the last of his books just before the trip, happy to have a little traveling money.

It had been hard to give up all the books he had scraped to buy over the last years, but as he made his way up the road he was glad to be carrying no extra weight. If he walked at a decent pace each day, he hoped to be over the mountains and to Bologna within a week and all the way to Milan in another two weeks or less. He was in no real hurry. He had no job waiting for him there either, but he had heard many stories of this intriguing city, and he was anxious to see how it compared to Florence.

As the sun started its slow descent to the west, Leonardo realized he needed to figure out his first night’s lodgings. He had seen a large group of travelers in the distance ahead of him most of the day, and was happy to come around a curve and see that they had stopped along the side of the road for the night. They had a fire going, and appeared to be heating a large pot of soup. Leonardo wondered if they would trade him a cup of soup for some evening music. He shifted the bag again, taking out the lyre as he walked slowly towards them.

Chapter Two

As the sun came up the next morning, Leonardo realized that the other travelers had already moved on. He stood, adjusting the cloak he had slept on, and grabbing for his traveling bag. He was startled to see it open, as if someone had gone through it while he slept, but then realized that he had probably left it that way when he had drifted off to sleep the night before. What little that had been in the bag was still there.

The next several days were more of the same – lots of walking, sometimes alone and sometimes with other travelers. Leonardo was happy to have his music to keep him company when the crowds thinned out.

As he walked through the thin mountain air, he was glad he had not come any earlier in the winter. The evenings were cool enough during these spring nights. As he got higher and higher into the