On 10 November 1472, under the command of the Venetian captain General Pietro Mocenigo, Caterina’s combined flotilla sailed for Cyprus, arriving at Famagusta some weeks later. Owing to its strategic position on the main trade routes still operating between Europe and the Levant, Famagusta was on its way to becoming the wealthiest city in the entire eastern Mediterranean (a fact that would prompt Shakespeare to make it the setting for Othello), In December a truly royal marriage ceremony was held at the Cathedral of St Nicholas in Famagusta. Surprisingly, James II and Caterina seem to have taken to each other at first sight and it was soon obvious to all that theirs was a love-match. Queen Caterina was welcomed by the Venetian gentry, and her Greek ancestry ensured that she was also popular with the indigenous population. However, despite the royal palace being home to the new lovers, not all was sweetness and light there, for it was also home to three of James’s illegitimate children, Eugene, John and Carla, as well as his mother Marietta of Patras, who had been his father’s mistress. All of these incumbents resented Caterina, regarding her as a foreign intruder. Marietta refused to be replaced as ruler of the royal household and presented a fearsome figure: the previous king’s wife had bitten off her nose in a fit of jealousy prompted by the affair that had produced James the Bastard, causing her to be nicknamed Marietta comomutena (crop-nosed).
As a major landowner, Caterina’s uncle Andrea Cornaro had long been a leading counsellor and close friend of James II – indeed, to such an extent that the young king’s extravagant behaviour had left him deeply in debt to Cornaro, who had been instrumental in arranging the king’s marriage to his niece. Despite this, Cornaro’s advice had proved of little effect during the four long years after the proxy wedding in Venice, for James had also listened to counsellors representing Neapolitan, papal, Genoese and other interests, all of whom had encouraged him to send emissaries far and wide in the search for powerful protective allies. But now that Caterina had arrived and been crowned as queen, Andrea Cornaro’s influence took on a more significant aspect. It was he who persuaded James to allow Captain-General Mocenigo to conduct his fleet on an extended tour of the island’s coastline, repairing its defences and building up the castles that guarded its main harbours.
This task also had a hidden pretext, for news soon spread over the Mediterranean that no less than the Captain-General of Venice had a fleet patrolling the coast of Cyprus, causing all rivals to be apprehensive about attempting any surprise invasion with the intention of taking over the island during this period of uncertainty. On the other hand, the local Venetian landowners also became apprehensive concerning the presence of Mocenigo’s fleet. They had long wished for an independent Cyprus, loosely allied to Venice, which would guarantee their protection in time of need. It now became clear to them that Venice had no such loose alliance in mind; it wished to impose its own direct rule upon the island – a move that would have deprived the local Venetian gentry of their considerable autonomy. At the same time, despite the reassurances of his counsellor, Andrea Cornaro, James II also became aware of what was happening. Taking matters into his own hands, in April 1473 he impetuously ordered all Venetian galleys to disembark from the port of Famagusta within two hours or they would be destroyed by the cannon lining the ramparts of the harbour fortress. From now on Venetian warships would only be permitted to put in at the minor port of Paphos, some seventy miles away at the western end of the island. For the time being, it appeared that the covert Venetian strategy had been thwarted.
Meanwhile James and Caterina remained happily in love, and there was great rejoicing in the spring of 1473 when it became known that she was pregnant. Even so, despite being enamoured of his queen, James II was loath to abandon his bachelor habits for a life of daily government business and domestic routine in the royal palace at Nicosia. He continued his philandering ways, and frequently departed for lengthy hunting expeditions in the wooded countryside outside Famagusta. In late June 1473, James and his companions, accompanied as usual by his friend Andrea Cornaro, set out on yet another hunting trip to Famagusta. Days later a royal messsenger galloped into the palace courtyard and went immediately to inform the queen that her husband had taken ill and was dying. Despite being at least six months pregnant, Caterina insisted upon setting out at once on the thirty-mile trip to see her husband. By the time she arrived in Famagusta, her husband was fading fast – his physicians announced that he had contracted a severe bout of dysentery, but some were secretly convinced that he had been poisoned. Also at his bedside were Andrea Cornaro and the Venetian Captain-General Moceingo, who by fortuitous coincidence had been sailing nearby and had immediately put ashore, ostensibly to offer his protection to the ailing king and his queen. However, James II had already delegated the official role of protector of himself, his queen and their future offspring to the two friends he trusted above all others – namely, Cornaro and his old schoolfriend and fellow hunter, the Sicilian Rizzo di Marino, who had also become his close political adviser. With his last energies James now dictated his will: this decreed that Queen Caterina was to be the legal heir to the throne of Cyprus. If their child was male, he would be the next in line. Should both mother and child die in childbirth, the next in line to the throne would be James’ three illegitimate children, Eugene, John and Carla. Just nine days after being struck down by his mysterious illness James II died in the early hours of 7 July.
The suspicion that he had been poisoned was widespread. But who was to blame? He certainly had enemies, especially amongst the cuckolded Venetian gentry and several noble fathers whose daughters’ virginity he had violated. But in this case there appeared to be a deeper purpose unfolding. The obvious culprits were the Venetians, and even Caterina was not sure how far she could now trust her compatriots. She had become involved in she knew not what. There were two other serious suspects. Some months before James had died he had been approached by an envoy from King Ferrante I of Naples, with a request that his illegitimate ten-year-old son, Alonzo of Aragon, should become engaged to James’s own illegitimate young daughter Carla, a request to which he had given serious consideration, naively thinking that an alliance with Naples might prove a useful counterbalance to Venetian influence. In fact, it was evident that Naples still retained designs on Cyprus. Second, and equally suspect, was James Il’s deposed sister Charlotte and her husband Louis of Savoy, who were still plotting to regain their throne, seeking the powerful backing of the pope and Milan.
On 28 August 1473 Caterina gave birth to a son, who was quickly baptised in Famagusta Cathedral, where he was publicly proclaimed as the future James III. The infant proved sickly from birth, and Caterina devoted herself to ensuring that he survived what had always been the most dangerous months in a child’s life, aided by her personal physician who was in attendance at all times. In order to protect Caterina, and Cyprus, the Venetian Senate ordered Captain-General Mocenigo to renew his patrol of Cypriot waters with increased vigilance. But the threat, when it came, was from the land. The islanders, growing tired of increasing Venetian control over their officials, launched a coup, led by the Archbishop of Nicosia, Louis Fabregues, and supported by the treacherous Rizzo di Marino. In the early hours of 13 November the conspirators and a band of their supporters were secretly let into the royal palace at Famagusta and burst into the queens apartments, where they slashed to death her physician and her chamberlain as the queen protected her baby in terror.
The conspirators then raged through the other rooms of the royal apartments, where they discovered Andrea Cornaro and his son, who were both hacked to death, their naked bodies thrown from an upper window into the moat below (where they were to be devoured by scavenging dogs). Only now did the hidden purpose of the plot emerge. It had not been entirely prompted by the anti-Venetian feelings of the indigenous population, but had mainly been encouraged by King Ferrante I of Naples. Archbishop Fabregues and Rizzo di Marino now threatened Caterina, forcing her to consent to the engagement of James Il’s illegitimate daughter Carla
to King Ferrante I’s illegitimate son Alonzo of Aragon, at the same time recognising Alonzo as the legitimate heir to the throne of Cyprus, thus effectively disinheriting her own son and allowing Cyprus to pass from the Venetian sphere of influence into the hands of Naples. The archbishop now demanded that Caterina hand over to him the royal seal and took over as de facto ruler of Cyprus, at the same time making sure that his rule at least seemed to be sanctioned by Caterina, who was always made to appear at his side in public. Her cooperation was ensured by the fact that the infant James III was taken from her and placed under the care of her quasi-mother-in-law, the fearsome Marietta comomutena.
When news of the coup reached Venice, the Senate decided that the time for diplomacy was over. Captain-General Mocenigo was despatched with a fleet of galleys with orders to restore Queen Caterina to her rightful role as ruler of Cyprus. As soon as the Venetian fleet arrived off Famagusta, Archbishop Fabregues fled for Naples and Rizzo di Marino managed to escape to Egypt. Others who had held positions in the archbishop’s administration were less fortunate. Whether they had been rewarded for actively supporting the coup, or were simply local administrators (of Greek or Venetian origin) who had merely remained at their posts, they were removed from office, disgraced and in many cases summarily executed.
Venice had no wish to disguise the fact that it had now assumed control over the governance of Cyprus, and two specially created counsellors were despatched to ‘assist’ the administration. In principle, as reigning monarch, Queen Caterina had first to approve any action advocated by the two counsellors. In practice, it was very much the other way round. All of Queen Caterina’s wishes had first of all to be vetted by the two counsellors, who soon began issuing orders of their own in her name. Initially Caterina was appeased by the return of her infant son James III, who was removed from the care of Marietta of Patras. Marietta and James II’s three children, Eugene, John and Carla, were then transported to a closed convent in Padua ‘for the purposes of education’. Queen Caterina was overjoyed by the return of her son, but just two days short of his first birthday, on 26 August 1474, he died under circumstances that have never plausibly been explained. Once again Caterina was distraught, and by now she had no hesitation in blaming Venice for the death of both her husband and her child. The Republic appeared determined that there should be no continuation of the royal line, yet she had sufficient political acumen to realise that her own life was probably not in danger, so long as there remained another royal pretender to the throne, in the form of James Il’s sister Charlotte, and the potential of a claim from Naples.
Queen Caterina now considered herself very much a Cypriot, her sympathies lying with both the Venetian gentry and the indigenous Greeks, all of whom resented the interference and virtual takeover by the Republic. Unfortunately these Cypriots did not reciprocate her feelings, now being firmly convinced that Caterina was in fact nothing more than a Venetian puppet. To all intents and purposes she was indeed just this; and to make matters worse, her despair was such that she withdrew from public view altogether, retiring to her room and refusing entry to all but her trusted lady-in-waiting, Vera de Giblet. This played into the hands of the two counsellors, who now simply took over the entire administration, without even paying lip-service to Queen Caterina. Although remaining titular head of state, she was now confined like a prisoner and denied all contact with the outside world. She was deprived of any luxuries, her room being furnished with none but the bare essentials and her meals reduced to the plainest fare.
* This family name often appears as ‘Corner’, as for instance in the several family dwellings in the city named Palazzo Corner (one of which is now the Palazzo Corner-Mocemgo, on the Campo di San Polo).
9
The End of the Queen
IRONICALLY, A SOMEWHAT similar diminution of power was just beginning in Venice, although it had not reached, and never would reach, the privations inflicted upon Queen Caterina. The power of the doge was starting to be eroded in favour of the Council of Ten. Over the years an increasing number of restrictions would be placed upon the doge’s power. Of necessity, the highest office in the Republic had always required certain restrictions, all aimed at preventing the quasi-democratic rule by the noble families from degenerating from an oligarchy to an autocracy in the hands of one or two families, or even into a dictatorship – a fear that was, as we have seen, well founded. Initial restrictions were tightened: personally the doge was not allowed to hold property outside the city, his family was forced to withdraw from all commercial activity (which could often result in a severe reduction of status for his name); whilst politically he was not permitted to open or sign any despatches without others being present. Although he may have been elected for life, and have lived in circumstances of some luxury in the Doge’s Palace at the heart of the Republic’s government, his role over the coming centuries would gradually become more and more ceremonial.
Venice may no longer have been ruled – or perhaps, more accurately, ‘presided over’ – by the doge; on the other hand, he still retained an executive role in the powerful Council of Ten, of which he was the only permanent member. The others, consisting of his six signory and three leading senators, all had to be elected, usually on an annual basis, thus ensuring that Venice could never become a collective autocracy, let alone a personal dictatorship. Other checks and balances ensured that no doge could be succeeded by a member of his family; at the same time no outgoing member of the Council of Ten could be eligible for re-election until two years after leaving office. Even so, the powerful leading families were now gaining increasing control of the city. In line with such measures taken to avoid the concentration of power, all other offices continued to be elected on a regular basis, and this was certainly the case with the two counsellors who had been appointed to rule in the name of the Republic in distant Cyprus. On their arrival in 1474, they had been accompanied by the queen’s father, Marco Cornaro, who had been briefed to encourage his daughter to cooperate with the current arrangements. However, when he was ushered in to see his daughter he was horrified. Isolated, and probably in a state of recovery from a nervous breakdown, her appearance had deteriorated. The bright and spirited young girl he had known just two years previously had aged into a distressed woman, who appeared to be living in a state of poverty unthinkable for a member of such a distinguished Venetian noble family. Her face was pale, her clothes in tatters, and she was being fed on what appeared to be scraps.
Marco Cornaro persuaded his daughter to write a letter outlining the injustice and disgrace of her present role, which she had only undertaken in the service of the Republic. This he then covertly removed from her cell and, on his return to Venice, personally delivered to Pietro Mocenigo, who had now become doge, a reward for his services to the Republic in the gaining of Cyprus. However, Doge Mocenigo did little to relieve Caterina’s plight, either because of his own feelings concerning the Cyprus situation or because he was prevented from doing so by the Council of Ten. Her material situation improved slightly, but her political power remained non-existent.
Paradoxically, the public perception of Queen Caterina amongst Cypriots now began to undergo a transformation. Despite de facto Venetian rule, by imprisoning Caterina the Venetians had indicated to her subjects where her sympathies lay. Consequently, the islanders now firmly regarded Caterina as their own queen. Although the Venetians continued to maintain a strong hold over the island itself, this did not deter international ambitions towards its territory in the years to come. For example, on reaching Egypt, the Sicilian Rizzo di Marino had continued to plot on behalf of the Neapolitan claim to the throne of Cyprus. After ingratiating himself with the Mameluke ruler Sultan Qaitbay, he had then travelled to Naples, returning with the seventeen-year-old Alonzo of Aragon. Rizzo di Marino’s daring plan was to kidnap Carla from Padua, so that she could marry Alonzo of Aragon, thus enabling Naples to lay a direct claim to the throne of Cyprus.
However, along with its growing power
, the Venetian Council of Ten was also cultivating a growing expertise in how to maintain such power. This had involved creating an ever-expanding network of spies throughout the city, a network that had soon been extended along its trading networks throughout the Mediterranean. As the meticulous court records show, thanks to such spies fewer commercial galley captains now risked secretly smuggling in luxury goods at the private request of the powerful noble patrons financing their legal cargoes. A trade that had once been widespread and had proved highly lucrative for all concerned was now liable to result in ruinous fines, the dungeons or long spells in the galleys.
Such international intelligence-gathering was soon working hand-in-hand with Venetian diplomatic representatives in foreign states and ports, and it was not long before the Council of Ten learned of Rizzo di Marino’s plan. It is uncertain whether Carla herself had been informed of what was happening; what is certain is that Carla, in good health and still in her late twenties, was discovered dead in her convent cell on the morning of 24 June 1480.
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