Part 6

In the evenings at the castle there were discussions and music and here Leonardo again met his pupil and companion on the trip from Florence so many years ago—Atalante Migliorotti who had left Milan in 1490 to assume the post of court musician to Isabella.

Although Leonardo had found a haven of peace in the political storm that raged about the city state of Mantua, he and Pacioli took to the road again for reasons unknown. Isabella d’Este, who still wanted Leonardo at her court, sent many a letter and messenger in the following years to bring Leonardo back—first to finish the portrait and then, when that failed, to sell to her any picture that Leonardo wished to send. Strangely enough, however, Leonardo seems to have turned his back upon the one sympathetic person he had met in a world of indifference.

The first, warm breezes of spring were blowing over the lagoons of Venice when Leonardo and Pacioli stepped ashore on the Piazzetta, or Little Square of San Marco. But the beauty of this jewel-like city rising from the sea was momentarily ignored by the two travelers for an angry, frightened crowd had gathered about the Doge’s palace on the Piazzetta.

The people of Venice were fearful because their fleet had just suffered a crushing defeat by the Turks. This meant that their power at sea, once supreme, was now no more. Year by year, moreover, their possessions in the east had been slowly whittled away, and now the city itself was threatened by invasion. At this same time, the Venetian ambassador, Manenti, hoping to make peace with the Turks, had been rudely rejected by them. Panic soon swept the city and rumors of the bloodthirsty infidel passed from person to person like the rush of an ugly wind. Barricades were put up and windows were barred. In this charged atmosphere, Leonardo and Pacioli sought out their lodgings.

Soon after Leonardo’s arrival here—either because his reputation had preceded him or, more likely, because of Fra Luca Pacioli’s recommendations—he became directly involved with the defenses of Venice. Immediately he was sent on an inspection trip of the city’s existing defenses, especially those inland from where an invasion would probably come. When he had seen them, he recommended a system of defenses along the Isonzo river near the present border of Yugoslavia, using the river itself to the disadvantage of the enemy. He also made suggestions for the improvement of forts, and even drew up plans for a completely new type—a circular fort. This consisted of a central, circular fort surrounded by two belts of fortresses each separated by a moat. In the outside moat were four semicircular outposts. Communication was by underground galleries. The total absence of superstructure and projecting balconies was a new idea for the times. Another new defense idea was to station in the moat itself a low, thick tower almost completely submerged, defended by a thin opening near the waterline. It was reached from the main fort by an underground passage and the gunsmoke was removed by vents. According to Leonardo no enemy could conceal himself in any part of the defenses and not be seen from such an outpost.

Leonardo’s most unusual scheme for defending Venice, however, was his idea of approaching an enemy fleet under the water and then putting holes in the hulls of their ships. Actually, the idea of diving was not a new one. Aristotle had written of diving and diving bells, and certainly the stories of pearl fishers in the Orient were well known in the Renaissance. But Leonardo designed a diver’s suit closely resembling those used today. This consisted of a complete suit of leather with helmet and eyepieces; it was made airtight by spirals of steel at the joints. He then added a bladder for holding air which fastened inside the suit at the diver’s chest. It is possible that Leonardo also invented an air chamber that could be used by the diver while under water—but he was very secretive about this invention for fear of how men might abuse such a discovery. He wrote, “... and this I do not publish or divulge, on account of the evil nature of man, who would practice assassinations at the bottom of the seas....”

Leonardo felt the same way about a “submarine” that he presented to the Councilors and Tribunal of Venice. This resembled a turtle’s shell with a raised bump on the center which was the “periscope.” When submerged the water probably rose to an area just around the “periscope,” but, again, the information about its air-supply is missing and the only reference to it is a reminder to close the “l—.” In addition, he invented a system of screws mounted in tongs with the borer in the middle for putting holes in the bottoms of enemy ships, and at the same time he thought of a defense against such an attack by designing the defending vessels with double hulls.

Among Leonardo’s other maritime devices were designs for boats that could dredge canals, harbors, and lagoons. What was the result of all these plans? We do not know. Whether any one of them was used against the Turks is a mystery.

At any rate, Leonardo and Pacioli left Venice that same spring and arrived in Florence in April of 1500. One of the purposes of Leonardo’s journey was to visit his father who was now living on Via Ghibellina with his fourth wife. Leonardo was now forty-eight. Still tall and straight with the strength of his youth, his face prematurely aged and his hair thinning back from his high forehead, Leonardo was more than ever an outstanding looking man. He still scorned fashionable clothes and dressed according to his own comfort which made him even more noticeable among the crowd. His deep-set eyes with their direct and penetrating glance, framed by his full, reddish beard, never missed a thing, although he now wore spectacles at his work.

Now that he was back in Florence, Leonardo needed lodgings and a job. He had banked his small savings, and he did not want to touch that. His father’s house with the five children of his present wife plus the sons from his previous marriages was too full to accommodate Leonardo. Moreover, the relationship between Piero and Leonardo was polite but distant, as Piero preferred the children of his later marriages.

Luckily, the place to live and the commission Leonardo needed presented themselves at the same time. The Church of the Annunciation of the Servite Order of Monks needed an altarpiece, and, as Leonardo’s fame was great, they offered him and his apprentice quarters in the monastery. Here, in the solitude of a monastic cell, Leonardo was able to return to his own researches. His long association with Fra Luca Pacioli continued as they worked together on Pacioli’s edition of Euclid’s _Elements_. At the same time, with his absorption in geometry, Leonardo commenced his studies of the transformation of solids; that is, changing the shape of something to another shape without diminishing or increasing its substance.

In his preoccupation with geometry, Leonardo had apparently done little about the commission which the Servite monks had given him. He finally yielded to their complaints, however, and commenced to draw the preliminary study for the subject, which was “St. Anne with the Virgin and Child.” Again his knowledge of geometry is most apparent in the finely constructed composition, every gesture of which is as plotted as a geometric exercise. In April of 1501, the drawing was finished; it caused an immediate sensation throughout Florence. For two days the public was allowed to pass in front of it.

But now a change was taking place in Leonardo. He was no longer content with simply painting. His highly original researches for pictures had slowly grown to the point where the research was more important than painting. In a sense the scientist had taken the brush from the artist. In two letters from Isabella d’Este’s emissary in Florence we learn, “He is entirely wrapped up in geometry and has no patience for painting.” This excerpt from a letter dated April 8, 1501, was followed six days later by another which said in part, “In brief, his mathematical experiments have made painting so distasteful to him that he cannot even bear to take up a brush.”

A few months after the completion of the St. Anne drawing, Leonardo received a letter signed by Cesare Borgia, Duke of Valentinois. Leonardo frowned and thought back to his last days in Milan. When King Louis XII of France had entered the city, he had summoned the painter of the “Last Supper” to an audience. The king had been generous in his praise and had tried to persuade Leonardo to remain. At that same audience had also been Cesare Borgia, an ally of the French. Leonardo remembered the man now—the dark hair and eyes, the black, arched eyebrows, and the face marked by some old disease. He was a powerful-chested, thin-hipped man who had originally been made a cardinal by his father, Pope Alexander VI. But the attractions of secular power soon persuaded him to abandon this title. With the enthusiastic help of his father, Borgia had fought, murdered, and deceived his way to a formidable position of authority in these last years. Leonardo, in the seclusion of the monastery, had lately heard that Borgia’s army had even been at the gates of Florence.

The letter addressed to Leonardo was an offer to assume the post of Architect and Military Engineer to His Excellency, Cesare Borgia. He thought of Ludovico Sforza—defeated and captured at the battle of Novara just a year ago as he attempted to regain his dukedom. Now the duke was a prisoner at Loches in Touraine; Leonardo had written of him, “The duke lost his State, his personal possessions and his liberty, and none of his enterprises have been completed.” And Leonardo also thought of his equestrian monument still standing in the castle being used for target practice by the French archers. Like the duke, nothing of his own had been completed either. Perhaps this Borgia offer was an opportunity. Leonardo decided to accept it.

In May of 1502, after having presented himself to Cesare Borgia in Rome, Leonardo began his hectic travels through Tuscany and Umbria. He was to inspect the fortresses and cities of Cesare’s new conquests there, and to make whatever recommendations he felt necessary for their improvements. Arriving in Piombino, he at once set down a project for draining the marshes and reclaiming the land. Also, while he was here, he spent hours by the sea watching the waves curl in from the Adriatic and studying the crash of water over the beaches. Moving on to Arrezzo, he drew up the first in a series of remarkable maps for the army of Vitellozzo which, with the backing of Cesare Borgia, was marching against Florence. These maps are bird’s-eye views of Tuscany and Umbria, and somewhat resemble modern aerial photographs. Drawn from Leonardo’s own observations, the green mountains stand, according to their height, in relief, with the roads winding over them and down through the valleys. The streams and their tributaries are in blue and even the villages and cities are drawn with great exactitude. Indeed Leonardo had learned his lessons from old Toscanelli well, and he was one of the first to bring the art of cartography to such perfection.

In July and August Leonardo was in Urbino and Pesaro, and by the 8th of August he had reached Rimini. Here he strengthened the fortifications and then rode quickly on to Cesena. Between Cesena, capital of the Romagna, and Porto Cesanatico, he spent from the middle of August to September planning a canal between the two, redesigning government buildings, and drawing up a new quarter to be built for the city of Cesena. At this time he constructed an instrument for telling him the speed of water currents in a stream. It told him whether the flow was swifter at the surface or at the bottom or on one side or the other of the stream’s bed.

In the meantime, Florence, alarmed at the growing power of Cesare Borgia, appealed to Charles d’Amboise, Regent of Milan for France, to come to her aid. Charles responded in the absence of the French King and helped to protect Florence. The enemies of Cesare took advantage of this to form an alliance, and soon Cesare was being forced back from his newly won possessions. Cesare himself then hastened to Milan, and there he suddenly came face to face again with Louis, the King of France, who was on his way to Naples. Borgia, who could exert great charm and influence when he wished, persuaded the king that, all rumors to the contrary, he, Cesare, was fighting the enemies of France. Again he won over the French, which greatly strengthened his position. Then, from Pavia, he issued a decree placing every facility possible at Leonardo’s disposal. In addition, he instructed all officials to help Leonardo in every matter, referring to him as “our highly esteemed court architect.”

While Leonardo was in Porto Cesanatico, a delegation from Bayzid II, Sultan of Turkey, paid a visit to Cesare Borgia. Among other things the delegation was looking for an engineer to build a bridge between Constantinople and Pera to replace a temporary wooden structure. Leonardo designed for them a single-arched bridge with double ramps at either end (looking very much like a present-day “thruway” entrance). He provided that it should be approximately twelve hundred feet long, eighty feet wide, and one hundred and forty feet above the water.

In his travels through the countryside, Leonardo could not help but notice how primitive the mills were. Feeling how strongly the wind blew in from the sea, he designed a windmill with a roof that turned with the sails. For the mechanism inside he devised a band brake—a semicircle of wood into which the large cogwheel of the mill was forced. This mill resembles the “Dutch” mills of the Netherlands and was among the first of its type to be brought into existence.

In the fall Leonardo was at Imola. There he created another of his beautifully rendered maps. He drew this with the help of a magnetic compass of his own invention. It consisted of a board with an arc on it and a compass needle, and was probably the first magnetic needle on a horizontal axis. This time the map was of the city itself, the walls, the castle and the principal buildings all touched with color and the river winding through the fields. Drawn in the shape of a circle, it resembles a view through a telescope from directly above. In Imola, too, he met Niccolò Machiavelli, the famous historian and political scientist, who was an emissary from the Signoria, the Council which now governed Florence. These two men became friends and, later, collaborators in Leonardo’s scheme to make the Arno river navigable to the sea.

At this time Cesare Borgia, having achieved great success in his military campaigns and confident of his conquests, decided to return to Rome. With the disbanding of Borgia’s headquarters at Imola, Leonardo’s duties were finished. Together with his new friend Niccolò Machiavelli and two other Florentines, he left Imola and the service of Cesare Borgia to return to Florence.

In January of 1503, a mathematician named Giovanni Battista Danti attempted a flight in a machine that he had designed. This flight was part of the entertainment at a wedding reception in Perugia. Danti climbed into his apparatus on top of the tower of St. Mary of the Virgin. It was pushed off into the air, hovered a few seconds, then began slowly drifting toward the ground. But suddenly, one of its wings hit a building projection and it crashed. Danti was carried away with a broken leg.

The news of the event traveled quickly to Florence.

When Leonardo heard about it, he eagerly questioned all those who had either seen it or had heard it described first hand. Danti’s attempted flight excited Leonardo for now he realized that he was no longer alone in his search. With a sense of urgency he returned to the problems of flying. He felt now that the solution to flight might be in the swift gusts of air through the ravines and the spread wings of the eagle drifting high in the sky.

10 _Shattered Hopes_

Before Leonardo could return to the problem of flight, however, he was again faced with the necessity of supporting himself and his growing household. The small fees he received for taking on apprentices hardly covered the cost of housing and feeding them. Moreover, the equipment he had to buy for his scientific researches added further to his strained budget. So, when a servant from Francesco del Giocondo, a rich Florentine merchant, presented himself at the gate with the request that Leonardo accept a commission to paint Francesco’s wife, Leonardo was only too glad to accept. The name of Francesco’s wife was Madonna Lisa, or Mona Lisa for short. Leonardo painted her portrait on and off for the next three years. Thus, what started as a minor commission ended as the one painting—in addition to the “Last Supper”—that most people today associate with the name of Leonardo da Vinci.

Having secured this work, Leonardo turned back to his studies of birds in flight and the nature of air. The soaring wings of eagles and hawks and the way they rode the currents with hardly a dip of their spread wings guided Leonardo’s thinking from pure mechanics to machines that act more on the principle of the glider. He proposed to write a treatise on the nature of birds’ flight, and, with his usual thoroughness, he began to weigh, dissect, and reconstruct various types of birds and their wing structure. He realized that one of the main difficulties of gliding was maintaining balance, or, more accurately, maintaining the center of gravity. From previous observations Leonardo had noted that man is capable of making the same motions that a bird does. He had also measured the strength of a man’s legs and had calculated that man has twice the power in his leg muscles that he needs for standing. Consequently he began to redesign his machine making use of man’s arms and legs to operate or “flap” the wings instead of standing him on a platform.

The first of Leonardo’s new designs was a sort of harness apparatus strapped across the shoulders of the flyer who was supposed to be able to keep himself balanced by moving the lower part of his body. He could manipulate the flight by handles that were connected to the flexible, outer parts of the wings. These wings were designed from the webbed wings of the bat. Surprisingly enough, this device closely resembled the experimental gliders used by Otto Lilienthal almost four centuries later in Germany.

Leonardo was now approaching other solutions to pure flight when further hostilities interrupted his work. Florence and Pisa were in bitter rivalry, and their struggle had assumed the proportions of a major war. The Florentine army was now practically at the gates of Pisa. Niccolò Machiavelli urged the Signoria to enlist the help of Leonardo da Vinci, who might be able to think of an immediate plan for destroying Pisa and her army. Never one to think in terms of an immediate battle or a temporary success, Leonardo put forth a daring and sweeping plan that would forever reduce the power of Pisa. The plan was as simple as it was monumental—divert the Arno river from its course into two canals that would empty into the sea at Leghorn south of Pisa. In this way, Pisa would lose her water supply and her opening to the sea.

The plan met with immediate approval and by the end of July 1503, Leonardo was sent out to survey the entire course of the river. He was accompanied by Giovanni “the Piper,” a man who was frequently employed on minor engineering projects and who was the official player of the pipes to the city of Florence. Giovanni was also the father of Benvenuto Cellini, who became the most famous goldsmith of the Renaissance. As they made their way to Pisa, Leonardo made some more of his extraordinary maps of the area, paying particular attention to the course of the Arno and its tributaries. These maps later inspired him to plan a whole series showing the main watersheds of Italy.

When he rode into the Florentine camp drawn up before Pisa, Leonardo designed from his observations and maps, a dam on the Arno to regulate the course of the river. This bird’s-eye view map is a marvel of exactness. It shows the flow of the river hitting the dam with its swirling backwash and overflow. Leonardo’s knowledge of the movement of water was so great and his craftsmanship in drawing so fine that the water in this map seems to flow before one’s eyes. One of the main problems in regulating the Arno was its tendency to continually be shifting its bed by the deposits of new sediment, and Leonardo realized it would be a long time before this project could be completed.

When he returned to Florence he presented to the Signoria, as part of his survey, various machines to hasten the excavation of the Arno. He had designed a crane that would assist in the digging out of two different levels at the same time. He also submitted the results of his calculations on the saving of muscular energy by the use of such machines. In addition, Leonardo proposed to use the water in the canals for irrigation purposes and had even calculated what the volume and velocity of a jet of water would be if projected from an opening in the bottom of the canal wall into an irrigation ditch. As if this were not enough, he had invented a practical method of piling as a foundation for the lock-basins to protect them against the dangers of erosion.

A separate map of this period on the flow of rivers in general was intended to relate to his treatise on the nature of water. In this treatise is the first outline of the fundamental principles of hydrodynamics, as for example:

The velocity of a current increases with the slope and decreases with the winding of the riverbed.

The volume of a river is in proportion to the width of its bed, the slope and the depth of the water being equal.

The slope and width being equal, the speed of the current is greatest in the deepest part of the river.

The excavation force increases at the narrowest section of the river.

Because of the grumbling of the military commanders at what they considered a waste of time, Machiavelli had to intervene with the Signoria before Leonardo was sent out again with documents of authority to continue with his plans. He spent well into the fall surveying the Arno and in October he was back in Florence.

Meanwhile the fighting between Pisa and Florence had been lessened by two political changes. In August Pope Alexander VI had died and his son Cesare Borgia became seriously ill. The Republic of Florence was now free of its most dangerous enemies—the Borgias. The city relaxed in its new security and the hostilities between Florence and Pisa died down to an uneasy armed watch.

Leonardo quickly took advantage of the situation to present an early dream of his to the Signoria. He again put forth his idea of a commercial canal to the sea and made mention of the great advantages there would be for all the mills, lumber yards, forges and other commercial interests in utilizing the water power that would be available from his project. Piero Soderini, the governor of the city-state of Florence, was impressed and thought of the glory it would bring to Florence and himself. He told Leonardo he would present it to the Signoria.