urt, and then were gathered together,
for many years, all the brightest minds of Italy, who felt the charm of
her presence and the value of her stimulating personality. Urbino was a
school of good manners, as Naples had been in the days of Queen Joanna;
it was the first great literary salon in modern history, and, presided
over by a woman who was a veritable _grande dame de societe_, its
influence was by no means confined to a narrow sphere. Even in far-away
England, Urbino was known and appreciated; and Henry VII., to show his
esteem for its ruler, conferred the Order of the Garter upon Guidobaldo.
In acknowledgment of this favor, Castiglione was sent to the English
court to bear the thanks of his lord, and with him he took as a present
Raphael's _Saint George and the Dragon_, which, by the way, was taken
from England when Cromwell ordered the sale of the art treasures of
Charles I., and may now be seen at the Louvre. The old Count Federigo
had made all this refined magnificence possible, it is true, and
Guidobaldo had been in every way a worthy successor to his father,
though lacking his rugged strength; but to Guidobaldo's wife, the
gracious and wise Elizabetta Gonzaga, belongs the credit for having kept
Urbino up to a high standard--an achievement of which few, if any, other
women of her time were capable. There was needed a person who combined
worldly knowledge with education and a sane, decent philosophy of life,
and Guidobaldo's wife was that person.

Veronica Gambara deserves a place among the good and illustrious women
of this time; and though she occupied a position far less conspicuous
than that of the Countess of Urbino, she was still a person of
reputation and importance. Born in the year 1485, her "fortunate
parents," as Zamboni calls them, gave her a most careful and thorough
education, and as a young woman she was noted for her poetic gifts,
which were of a high order. At the age of twenty-five she married
Ghiberto, Count of Correggio, and their union was one of true sympathy
and deep attachment, such as was rarely seen then, when the _mariage de
convenance_ was more in vogue, perhaps, than it is in these later days
in Paris. Nine happy years they spent together, and two sons were born
to them; then Ghiberto died, leaving Veronica in such grief that she
fell ill and hovered a long time between life and death. In one of her
poems she relates that it was the fear that she might not meet her
beloved husband