Alessandra Grazia della Scalla
The persona story of Alessandra Grazia della Scala
My name is Alessandra Grazia della Scala and this is my story.
I was born in luxury in Florence in the year of our lord 1540.
My mother Pasqualina, youngest daughter of condottiere Pasqual Manolosso, was a gifted child. Blessed with the talent to weave silver and gold, she was a prized citizen of La Serenissima. Word of her skill reached the ears of the Florentine family of Medici. It was ‘Il Moro’ Alessandro de Medici who personally requested her presence in Florence. She left her fair home and travelled to Florence where she remained studying with the weaver’s guild learning and perfecting her trade while in the house of Medici. When the Duke was murdered, she returned to her home in Venice and lived with her Aunt.
Shortly after the strong Cosimo came into power my grandfather was summoned to the golden city. Upon arrival he met with the new Duke and was asked to take a place within his council. Pasqual had fought alongside Giovanni dalle Bande Nere, Cosimo’s own father and had earned himself a reputation that exceeded even the neglected father’s own standing. It was then that the family, (which consisted of an aged aunt, my father and my mother) was moved to Florence, my mother returning for a second time.
Upon the blessed marriage of the strong Cosimo to the gracious and beautiful Eleonora di Toledo, my mother was given the coveted position as one of Eleonora’s personal weavers and embroiderers. It was by her hands that some of her Mistress’s most beautiful gowns were decorated.
A young but worthy condottiere had been injured in a battle and had been traveling home to Venice when he stopped in to see my grandfather. Giuseppe della Scala limped into the palazzo a different man than the aging Pasquale remembered had served him in battle for so many years. A skirmish had brought the blade of a sword through his left thigh and caused an infection that left him with a permanent limp and an odd gait. He had earned a fair sum while a condottiere and was heading into a comfortable early retirement.
Manolosso spent a fort night visiting with the younger man before suggesting the marriage of his daughter to Giuseppe. For Pasqual, the marriage would be a beneficial one as Giuseppe was from a good and noble family with a strong lineage and a healthy wealth. For Giuseppe, the marriage provided a comely and skilled wife that would produce handsome children. That night the bargain was struck and the plans for the wedding were started.
While my mother believed her own mistress had a hand in it, shortly after their union, my father Giuseppe della Scala became one of the Duke’s mathematicians, and due to his background as a condottiere, his knowledge in military strategy earned him a coveted position as one of the Duke’s personal advisers. Despite the rebuttle and dislike of the great Cosimo’s new system, his advisors provided him with counsel that he could understand and use.
It was also at this time that my mother was elevated to the Head of Eleonore di Toledo’s personal weavers. It seemed as though our family was doing rather well. Shortly after Yule 1540 the brave Pasquale Manolosso died a peaceful death in his home in Florence. Having lost his only wife in childbirth, and his dear beloved sister only a year previous due to an illness, his only daughter went into mourning alone.
Eleonore di Toledo and my mother were both pregnant during the year 1540. I was born months after Maria and lived a completely different life than the child of the family we lived with. While she was sent off to live with her Grandmother, I remained close to my mother at all times. As a young girl I remember Eleonore, obviously missing her own children, doting on me. Always generous and kind my mother’s Mistress.
The great Duke Cosimo promoted my father to Chief Mathematician and kept him for for many years. We were as family within the walls of the Medici court. I was still young when the great Duke’s daughter Maria passed. A great sadness set upon us all with her passing. The Duke’s love for her was evident and when dear Isabella was born we celebrated as only the Medici can. I remember as a child the loving Duke playing games with me in the corridors while his advisors often tried steering him back to more pressing matters.
It was a glorious and fantastical world to be in. These great people, powerful yet as close as family, and I have oft questioned if we knew them at all. The wonderful thing about political intrigue is that the pawns never know what the nobility are working towards. This being said, shortly after Francesco Donato was elected Doge in Venice in 1545, my Father was rewarded for his years of loyal service to the Duke and was given land in one of the most prized republics of all of Italy, Venice. My dear Father was both astonished at the offer and thrilled at the news he was to return to his home lands. He was sent with his credentials and came highly recommended to the Doge by the Duke. My mother was heartbroken to leave her Mistress but the will of the Duke was more important than her wishes.
We moved to Venice in the Autumn of 1545. I was a young girl and I remember those first few days in our new city with affection. The journey was horrible and long and I was more than pleased to arrive.
We lived just down from the Rialto. I remember I would oft look out the window at the sea of people and just watch the activity for hours. The canals and their gondoliers softly floating by were always a thing to see. If only I’d been warned how much my little world would change in the coming years. In 1548 the grand Duke's own relative Lorenzino, the last Medici claimant to Florence, was assassinated in Venice. Gossip and lies spread like wildfire. Spies were seen to be everywhere and no one could be trusted.
That was the beginning of the end for my happy little family. My father was accused of being a spy for Cosimo who was rumored to have ordered the execution himself. I even heard whispers that my father had been a part of Lorenzino’s murder and held the murder weapon. It was wholly untrue, upon my honor I can attest to that, but the masses saw what they wished. My father’s patron, the Doge, stepped in to protect us. He and my father had become fast friends while he served the holy man and it was at this time that we relied on that friendship.
That year we moved to the Doge’s Palace. Our family home rented and left to the care of a young doctor, a man from Verona. What spectacular new chambers we had and what wonders were contained within. While there I have learned many wondrous things. I have been taught Astronomy, Bookkeeping, Maths, and biblical tales. I have often spent the afternoon with the Doge conversing in the languages of German, Spanish, French and even in English! He has also taught me to read from the bible in Latin. How fantastic is that?
Doge Donato has suffered a few bouts of severe illness. It has caused a bed fever that has kept him indoors and away from his mistress. In the summer of 1552 my father had been sitting with the Doge for many long weeks, keeping him company while the great holy man lay in bed, ill. It was as though my father Giuseppe took the illness from the Doge into himself. The physician said it was his love for the Doge that took him from us.
My father had spent most of his earned fortune over the years to ensure I had tutors and fine dresses. While I had spent years in the Florentine lands, I was born in Venice, my parents were both proud Venetians and I was given everything to live as a proper nobleman’s daughter. Sadly, all this extravagance had depleted his savings and while we weren't destitute, my mother explained that after my father’s passing we would need to seek options. Despite her age she said we could return to Florence and she could attempt to become a weaver again. We’d been living within the Doge’s palace for so long I wished not to remember what life was like in Florence as returning to it without Papa scared me.
Being that I was an only child and my father died without producing a male heir, my mother and I were facing poverty and possible ruin. There were few options to secure our future. Mama could remarry although being the widow of a Medici pawn had cast a distrustful aura upon her. She had come to love my father with a passion that never died. Re-entering the state of holy union was not something she would contemplate.
Together we sought out the Doge for his sage and learned advice.
I knew that there were two paths a young woman’s life could take, Marriage or the Nunnery. Neither seemed appealing, for what man would want an educated woman for his wife, let alone the daughter of a man whose reputation had the taint of scandal and treachery with no dowry? And the stories I’d heard of the nunneries from the visiting nuns and our travels with the Doge made it all that more unappealing. It was he and mama that brought forth the idea of becoming a courtesan to me. In Venice, with the right contacts, skills and luck a woman could be her own person and earn a good honorable living as a Cortigana Honesta. They were different than the common street prostitutes. They were revered and lavished upon. It was a status that exceeded that of a mistress and saved one from destitution.
There would be no marriage or nunnery for this educated child. It was discussed over many weeks and eventually decided that with the help and tutelage of those closest in our lives, I would be able to not only survive but do well as a Courtesan. She said it seemed as though I had been groomed for the role. After all, I had been at the parties in the palazzo and had been raised in a good fashion. I had education, good contacts and a fast wit. Those nobles that wouldn’t want their sons to be tied in marriage to our house were happy to enjoy a salon or gaming table with those of our kin as our ancient name still held some standing.
This life was all chosen for me and planned out before I was even within my womanhood. A child of 12, I chose to ignore the fear that came from knowing what lay in store for me and focused on my studies for it was those that would ultimately keep me from the streets and fates of common canal prostitutes.
The dear Doge Donato, whom had secured our fortune and safekeeping for so many years passed away in the year 1553 but not before providing us with a lasting security and connections. Upon his passing he requested that the new Doge protect and secure our standing. I mourned Doge Donato as much as that of my own father.
That year I took my first patron. A gentleman that sought to honor his family by supporting artists and poets. For him I wrote such poems and honors that would befall a King. He even sent me tutors and great masters to instruct me on painting in the new fashion. I learned to create my own pigments and the intricacies of form and light.
In the year 1556 I took my first lover. He was a young man with a sculpted body and eyes that glittered with amusement and danger. The slightest glance unleashed such passion within me that I oft thought my heart would break from the immenseness of it. He stole my focus as easily as my heart. The Doge’s former Mistress warned me against such love. It was not to be in my developing role. Crestfallen I cast him aside for wealthy patrons. Discouraged and equally heartbroken he fled our beautiful city and was not heard from for many years.
This was also my first true lesson in life as a woman. The world may give you unimaginable hardships, but like the diamond is created with pressure, only the truly fantastic are strong enough to survive and emerge beautiful and sparkling from their cocoon.
Since that time we have seen the rise and passing of two Doge’s: Marcantonio Trivisan and Francesco Venier. We now have the wise and generous Lorenzo Priuli. His brother is a lout but Doge Lorenzo is a cultured comfort.
I am well on my way to being one of the most desired courtesans in Venice. My patrons provide me with a healthy sum to keep my mother and I and our home. While the palazzo of the Doge was wondrous and immense, mother and I have returned to the family home given to us by Duke Cosimo, but we have made some changes. The young doctor Nicolo Bruni, that was renting the home is now my employee and dearest friend. I have also taken him on as my personal physician. It helps circumvent the law to have a handsome man about to play the role of older brother, suitor or husband. He is kind and affectionate and has been a blessing on more than one occasion. He has become like a brother to me.
As for my mother, she keeps the house and staff. We have also taken on a cook, a few maids, a musician and a dressmaker (Although mother still insists on being the embroiderer and weaver when we use Silver or Gold). For myself, I have become spoiled with luxurious furnishings and tapestries. My gowns are the newest fashions and the envy of most noblewomen. I have been given many gifts over the last few years by my patrons but I am most proud of my beautiful peafowl and the couple dogs I own.
When I am not singing, reciting poetry, or entertaining my patrons, I can often be found at the window in my sitting room, reading or looking out at the ships off in the distance. I find I often look back at the course of my life and am amazed at how it has changed.