Il Gran Cavallo
[First letter abridged and adapted from The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci]
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to Ludovico Sforza, the Duke of Milan, Applying for a Position, 14 Luglio 1482
Most illustrious lord: having seen and considered the experiments of all those who pose as masters in the art of inventing instruments of war, and finding that their inventions differ in no way from those in common use, I am emboldened to acquaint your Excellency with my own expertise in these arts.
I can construct bridges which are very light and strong and portable, with which to cross trenches; I can cut off water from the trenches and make pontoons and scaling ladders and other similar contrivances; and I can demolish every fortress if its foundations have not been set on stone. I can also make a cannon which is light and easy to transport, as well as armored wagons for carrying artillery to break through the most serried ranks of the enemy and so open a safe passage for your infantry.
When it is impossible to use cannon I can supply in their stead catapults, mangonels, trabocchi, and other instruments of admirable efficiency; and if the fight should take place upon the sea I can construct engines most suitable either for attack or defense, and ships which can resist the fire of the heaviest cannon.
In time of peace, I excel in the construction of buildings both public and private, and in conducting water from one place to another. In painting, I am a master surpassed by none who walks this Earth; and I can further execute sculpture in marble, bronze, or clay. In your service, I would undertake the commission of the greatest sculpture of this or any age: a bronze horse, Il Gran Cavallo! It shall bring immortal glory and eternal honor to the auspicious memory of your father and to the illustrious house of Sforza.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Most Gracious Patron, the Duke of Milan, On the Subject of Greek Fire, 13 Maggio 1490
Your most generous Excellency, I must confess that my progress on Greek Fire has been slow. After studying the works of Pseudo-Geber, Bacon, and Magnus, I had a promising recipe: a pungent-but-potent mix of charcoal of willow, saltpetre, sulphur, and pitch, with frankincense and camphor and hemp, and other diverse ingredients in proper amount. This mixture so desires to burn that its flame clings to timbers even under water.
But I learned through most dangerous trials that this mixture sticks to almost anything devised by mind of man. It proved impractical as a weapon, for it was more like to burn the wielder than his opponent. Whether in catapult or cauldron, any attempt to cast it upon foes was in vain. I fear young Salai was quite burned in one trial before we could scrape the substance from his skin. You recall Salai, my headstrong young student? He will survive, I think, but my remorse at his suffering is deep. The boy is a thief, a liar, stubborn, and a glutton, but he is a good lad for all that. And after he has suffered this wound in my service (and yours), I shall be forever in his debt.
So, I fear this mixture shall be of no use to you should Alfonso of Naples prove treacherous, as you suspect. The only surface to which it does not cling tenaciously is bronze, particularly when hot. Perhaps I may construct bronze missiles with which to launch it, but as Salai can attest, it is not easily handled. Danger is always near. I shall endeavor to find some other use for this inflammable mix. It has already proven a most efficient fuel in heating my workshop in Castello di Varzi.
Meanwhile, should it prove necessary to defend against Alfonso, you might better trust alliance over alchemy. Courtiers tell that Charles l’Affable remains a true friend of your Excellency, and he has a strong army if the need arises.
On the subject of bronze, I was by no means boasting when I told of my plans for Il Gran Cavallo. A lesser artist would surely be boasting if he vowed to make a twenty-four-foot bronze horse sculpture. But I am Leonardo! I do not boast, I plan and design and sketch and research; and then when I am sure of success, then I announce what I shall do.
Oh, I have as yet made little progress on this tribute to your illustrious father; but I have requisitioned sufficient bronze for the work. I have made good progress on a clay model; but my research and work on your engines of war is always my highest priority. And now I must plan floats and clockwork entertainments for your impending nuptials. (I think you shall be pleased with my new clockworks, which mime movement as if alive.) I know this project has put a strain on the Milanese treasury; but rest assured, I shall make good use of the stock of bronze as soon as other projects permit. I think you shall be surprised when my work surpasses even the designs I have shown you. This statue shall be larger than Donatello’s or Verrocchio’s, and more lifelike than any!
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Duke of Milan, my most magnanimous benefactor, 22 Ottobre 1491
As your Excellency has required, my students and I are removing our researches to your country estate in Varzi. I think this shall be all for the good, as your enemies shall have no chance to learn our secrets, and the Castello shall make a most excellent workshop for Il Gran Cavallo.
And of course, this shall prevent occurrences like the unfortunate incident of two nights past. I do hope Giovanni the vintner shall rebuild his delightful establishment even better than before. I am most saddened by the loss of his stock, as he always had the most excellent wines, and also saddened by my part in the fire, no matter how small. I still cannot determine how the Greek Fire mixture leaked from my workshop, across the street, and into his cellar, nor how it was ignited.
As for Giovanni’s suggestion that Salai deliberately set the fire as a distraction to steal from his stock, I find that most implausible. The lad has a positive fear of the mixture after his accident. Still, if anything could tempt him to dare the fire, it would be Giovanni’s finest. I shall be watchful, and if I see him with any of the vintner’s wares, trust that I shall confiscate it. For his own good, of course.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Most Fortunate Groom, the Duke of Milan, On this Happiest of Days, 8 Gennaio 1491
Excellency, I must apologize that on this, your most blessed day, I cannot be present to see to the final details of your nuptials. Please trust that Salai has my utmost confidence and shall carry out my plans to the letter. (But please count the silver when he is done! If any should turn up missing, you have my word that I shall take it out of his delicate hide.) As long as you remind him to keep the clockworks wound, your parade shall include the most ingenious mechanisms to delight the revelers.
I know that under ordinary circumstances my absence from your wedding would be a breach of etiquette so egregious as to sever our relationship; but please understand that I am on a mission with only one purpose: to please you with a fitting tribute to Il Sforza! Last night I pored over the works of Avicenna and Persian Geber; and suddenly I was struck with a vision from our Heavenly Father! I knew, as I have never known before, that I had all the pieces at my fingertips and could create a work beyond any we had imagined. When I am through, your name will echo through the ages.
So, I have repaired to the southern hills, to your remote estate at Varzi. There I pursue a course both hazardous and secretive, applying my newfound knowledge to Il Gran Cavallo. If I have not gone a step too far, if I have not brought your generous patronage to an end, then I hope that you and the lovely Duchess Beatrice can join me when your celebrations are complete. What I will show you will be well worth your time, and I think shall please the Duchess as well.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Duke of Milan, and to the Duchess Beatrice, Fairest in the Land, 29 Gennaio 1491
Excellencies, I thank you again for your words of superlative praise. What I have done, I have done in your service, and could not have accomplished without your support.
Duchess Beatrice, you honor me more than words can convey, and you are most perceptive: the giant horse head is indeed motivated by some of the same devices as the clockwork angels in your parade. And be assured, moving the head is only the beginning!
To the Duke Ludovico: I have taken your command to heart. While Il Gran Cavallo shall be my greatest of inventions, I have taken steps to make it secret from the world. The Castello di Varzi is a most private place to work, and I have taken pains to erase all traces of the work from any records man might read. I have rewritten my journals and tampered with my recipe for Greek Fire, so that any who chance upon it shall create a flammable, adhesive sludge, but not the blindingly hot mix that powers the engines that drive the horse. And I have erased any mention of my clockwork miracle, mentioning only the great clay model I used for my casting. To the world, that shall be Il Gran Cavallo, and my attempts at casting a great bronze horse shall be seen as a failure. Indeed, that great loudmouthed fool Michelangelo has already slandered me, telling all that I shall never finish this work. Let him talk! When you are ready, the world shall tremble at my genius, and at your power. In my long long-ago letter of introduction, I promised you “engines most suitable either for attack or defense.” With Il Gran Cavallo, I shall deliver the greatest engine of war the world has ever seen.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the most beneficent of patrons, the Duke of Milan, 3 Agosto 1492
As your Excellency has urged extreme secrecy in the matter of Il Gran Cavallo, I shall henceforth write all letters in mirror script, a minor skill of mine. When Salai delivers this message, he shall also deliver a fine silver mirror which I have crafted for the Duchess Beatrice. When she is not using it to admire her incomparable beauty, you might use it to read these reports from the Castello. (If by chance Salai should not deliver the mirror, I trust that you shall beat him firmly until he reveals its whereabouts; but I entreat you not to be too harsh, as I have grown quite fond of the lad despite his larcenies.)
This report must be brief, for I have much to understand about the clockworks inside Il Gran Cavallo. You might think that I as the designer would understand all that moves within that bronze shell, but I lack the omniscient eye of the Creator, and so I cannot see all the ways in which the works can combine. There remain many details to work out, but I wanted you to know that today, the statue took its first steps across the courtyard!
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Duke of Milan, the Greatest Friend of the Arts, 15 Maggio 1493
Again, I must ask your Excellence for your forgiveness for the brevity of this letter. Time slides inevitably past, and my tasks grow ever more numerous. So, to the point: today the beast fairly pranced around the courtyard!
Yes, I called my creation a beast. True, it is a mechanism of clockwork and Greek Fire. Like the fabled stallion of Troy, it has a hatch in its belly through which I can crawl to tinker with the gears and cables and coils within, maintaining and even improving the mechanism. I do not delude myself that it is anything but my greatest clockwork, but still, it moved like a beast! Indeed, it looked like nothing less than one of your father’s stallions on parade … albeit a stallion five times the height of a man. Were I not your humble servant, I might very well burst with pride at my accomplishment, so close to life is it in manner.
But unlike any beast, this horse of bronze veritably thunders as it runs. The whole Castello shook as if in a quake. If the armies of Charles do not intimidate the treacherous Alfonso, then surely this greatest of war beasts shall strike fear into his black heart and rout his army as a horse scatters a pile of leaves.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Duke of Milan, the Very Soul of Understanding, 17 Dicembre 1493
Excellency, I word this letter with extreme care. I do not wish in any way to imply that I question your wisdom. You are, after all, the patron, and I but your humble inventor.
But I find myself compelled to ask: do you really think that a twenty-four-foot-tall bronze horse needs to breathe fire as well in order to intimidate your foes?
I do not ask merely from some mad desire to disappoint my Duke. Rather I must tell you: this would be a surpassingly difficult task to accomplish.
Still, if such is your will, I can only apply myself to this task with renewed diligence.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Duke of Milan, the Very Spirit of Forgiveness, 21 Dicembre 1493
Most honored Duke, please be assured I have no wish for your patronage to come to an end! Again, I do not question your commands, I merely seek to understand them correctly so that I may properly carry them out. I am merely an inventor and not a diplomat, and I fear I failed in my message. If you want Il Gran Cavallo to breathe fire, then I shall find a way, though I cannot foretell what that way may be. I shall renew my researches into the works of Grosseteste and Zosimos of Panopolis. Perhaps they and the Good Lord shall guide me to fulfill your wishes.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Duke of Milan, he of the Most Marvelous Library, 11 Febbraio 1494
Excellency, the volumes you provided from your library have been of great assistance. Salai delivered them all, with only two missing. After I used the lash to impress upon him my displeasure, he divulged the two missing volumes, which he had not yet had time to sell.
After poring over these tomes, I have a recipe to render the Greek Fire more liquid without diminishing its potency. With a most ingenious rotating blade, I have spun this sludge into a burning mist that blows like breath—though with a brimstone stench at which even Lucifer might blanch.
These ancient formulae, forgotten by most and disbelieved by the rest, have two curious side-effects. The first may lead to some expense, I fear: the new mixture is a hungry fire. I know of no better word for it. It must be fed constantly. I have redesigned the beast’s internal clockwork yet again just to ensure that the flame remains kindled. Even with the redesign, you would have to dedicate two men to refueling the beast after every sortie. Salai collapses in exhaustion each night from gathering fuel for the horse. This is most impractical, so I am at work upon a modification that may reduce the labor of maintaining Il Gran Cavallo. But the fuel shall still be costly.
Yet the other unexpected outcome shall make you glad of the expense, I think. This new recipe produces a most curious waste product (and in a fit of amusement, I designed the workings such that the waste emerges where you would expect a horse’s wastes to emerge). Though this Greek Fire is fed by various oils and vegetation, the excreta that results from that alchemical stew is an exceptional alloy of bronze.
I know that this is most difficult to believe. I encourage your Excellence to come see it in person. This bronze may serve Milan in many ways, but in one especially. My skill in mimicking the patterns of life is such that the excreta emerges from the cooling channel in the precise shape you might expect from a horse: a nearly perfect sphere. As miraculous as this is to say, your great war beast excretes bronze cannonballs.
Alfonso shall not know what hit him!
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Most Perceptive Duke of Milan, 27 Febbraio 1494
Thank you, Excellency, for honoring me with your visit and the company of the divine Duchess Beatrice. Your praise would be the highest possible reward for my work, save that her delight at seeing Il Gran Cavallo in canter was higher reward still. As to her concerns, please assure her that the creature is entirely under my control. I have inserted a clever locking mechanism which looks like nothing more than another wheel within the clockworks; and through that I alone can motivate the horse.
I am deeply sorrowed that your lordship has proven correct: the excreta of the beast is too large and irregular for proper cannonballs. I shall endeavor to redesign the alimentary channel to produce a better bolus. Until I do, your smiths must recast these nuggets to better fit the cannon bore.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the Duke of Milan, Most Wise of Leaders, 8 Settembre 1494
Excellency, I have solved the fueling problem! The solution is at once both obvious and ingenious: I have modified the creature’s “mouth” so that it may refuel itself. Through this opening it may intake grain or grass or even brush and tree branches to feed its internal furnace. As a further benefit, this approach allows it to be more regular in its excreta (if I may be permitted a coarse jest), producing bronze spheres of a more predictable size and shape. I trust that you are pleased with the cannonballs included with this message. (If Salai has not delivered the cannonballs, no doubt he has pawned them. In that instance, I hope your lordship will remember that the boy serves you well on most days, but still is tempted by his larcenous past. I suggest a whipping, but I would appreciate if he remained fit enough to help in my work.)
This new fueling technique has had another effect. Sometimes at night when I look upon Il Gran Cavallo, I swear the creature wants more: as if the ancient recipe has kindled a fiery spirit within my creation. Sometimes the eyes, mere plates of bronze, seem to glow from the heat within.
Perhaps I work too hard. These visions haunt my nights and leave me weary. Though I know they are mere fancies, I find myself checking thrice nightly to ensure that the tarnished silver wheel is in place, immobilizing the creature until I can supervise its actions.
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the beneficent Duke of Milan, 20 Settembre 1494
Your Excellency is correct: though I am loath to admit weakness, I am most tired by my labors in your behalf. Even pleasant tasks wear upon a body after hours such as these. Your suggestion of a holiday is exactly what I need. If I can get away for a week or so of rest, I can attack my problems with renewed vigor. I shall visit a friend near Genoa. Salai and the others can maintain the Castello until I return.
From Leonardo to Duke Ludovico, 24 Settembre 1494
I have no time for my customary pleasantries, as I must hurry to Varzi. Through travelers I learned that your false friend, Charles the Deceiver, did not stop with driving off the armies of Alfonso, but has now himself besieged Milan! I hope that my courier may deliver this through the siege lines, and that these words may give you comfort: Il Gran Cavallo shall soon gallop to your rescue!
Letter from Leonardo da Vinci to the most beauteous and charitable lady in all the land, Duchess Beatrice di Milano, 28 Settembre 1494
My lady, with a heavy heart I write to you and presume upon your kind spirit, pleading with you to intercede with your husband, the Duke Ludovico, that I might remain—if not in his good graces—then at least in his employ. For in this hour when the treacherous French camp upon the very slopes of his foothills, I have failed him.
When I learned of the French betrayal, I set back for Varzi in order to rouse Il Gran Cavallo and set the creature loose upon them. One night I was but a few miles from the Castello, almost in sight of the farmlands, when it seemed a mighty storm lay beyond the last mountain. Though stars were clear overhead, thunder echoed through the vales, and light flared behind the peaks.
But soon I heard that which struck fear to my very marrow: there was a cadence to the thunder. And worse, it was a familiar cadence: galloping hooves the size of wagon wheels!
I scrambled through the valley and up the pass to the Vale of Varzi. It took three hours to crest the ridge. In all that time, the drum of hooves and the infernal light drew nearer and farther in no particular pattern. Eventually, they faded.
I steeled myself for what I would see; but even the mind of Leonardo could not imagine the devastation. Il Gran Cavallo had run free across the valley, but that was just the smallest of the calamities before me. The horse’s ravenous internal flames had driven it to consume all that had lain in the fields awaiting harvest. What the beast had not consumed, it had ignited with its flaming breath or trampled with those tremendous hooves.
Before I could climb down to inspect the wreckage, a hand snaked out from the darkness and grabbed my arm. “No, maestro,” said a voice I recognized as that of a local peasant farmer. “Do not approach. Il Diavolo roams the night!”
It was with difficulty that I teased out the rest of the story, for fear had nearly robbed the man of his senses, but I had already guessed most of it. Il Gran Cavallo had somehow broken free and laid waste to the valley. The peasants had tried to defend their fields. They saw only a large shape, its full size hidden in the darkness until it got close, and so they thought some bear or other creature was upon them. Only when it started trampling their hovels and igniting thatch roofs did they grasp its gigantic nature. And then they saw the glowing bronze eyes, and they fled screaming, leaving the fields to the beast.
As a scholar and the beast’s creator, I was doubly bound to learn the full story of that night. I set off into the valley, shaking off the peasant’s protecting arm. I was unconcerned with safety, only knowledge.
As fast as I dared in the darkness, I followed the road to the Castello. Dawn had not arrived when I stumbled on unexpected rubble. By the light of the stars, I tried to make out the obstacle, and slowly I realized that it was the sundered walls of Castello di Varzi, brought to ruin by the blow of massive bronze hooves.
I sat upon a block, awash in despair. How had the beast gotten free? How did it move without command? And had Salai or any of your loyal servants survived its assault?
But in that moment, I suddenly worried less about their fate and more about my own; for I heard a loud rasping, and I smelled the foul brimstone and hempen odor of the beast’s breath. I turned round, and Il Gran Cavallo loomed over me, those bronze eyes glowing red as they glowered down upon me.
In that moment, I, the great Leonardo, knew fear of my own creation, for it had done the impossible: it had exceeded my designs. Perhaps those ancient alchemists had an even greater secret than turning pitch into bronze: the secret of turning fire into anima itself! For I knew with an utter certainty that this beast had become some strange new form of life. How did I know? My answer is indelicate, my lady, to a degree I would not normally discuss with one so gracious as you; but please forgive me, I must be plain here. The beast eats, it breathes, it moves, it excretes. It needed but one more organic function to be alive in the eyes of scholars, that of reproduction; and that pre-dawn, though I had given it no means for that function, the means had somehow grown without my design. Il Gran Cavallo was, finally, truly a stallion. And it was ready for a mate.
And that was exactly what it wanted from me, and what I dared not give it: a mare to equal it in fire and stature. I could see both its lust and its cunning in those bronze eyes, but I could not set such a new species loose upon the world, even if the cost of refusal was my life. Still I was not eager to pay that price, and I hoped it would do me no harm so long as I was useful to it. So, I slowly stood and backed away; and when it started to move to cut me off, I dove into the rubble and sought cover.
The next two hours were a most fearsome game of cat and mouse. I hid among the ruins while Il Gran Cavallo tried to flush me out. For the first hour it took care to keep me unharmed; but eventually it grew impatient at my evasions, and it started smashing down obstacles. Finally, I think it must have grown completely enraged and forgotten its desire for a mare, so intent was it on punishing me. And so, it began spewing its flaming breath.
I wish I had been some brave hero to stand against the monster, instead of cowering for hours; but at that moment I was at least a scholar, and smarter than my creation. I realized it could not maintain its flaming breath forever without fuel, and it had already consumed most of the fuel for miles. So, I performed the bravest act of my life: I stood out, called the beast’s attention, and waited for it to breathe flame at me, whereupon I again sought cover. And I repeated this time after time, until at last the flames grew weaker. Soon they were mere gusts of warm air, and I had no need to dodge.
I had hoped to taunt the beast into consuming its fuel entirely, freezing it in its gigantic tracks so I could regain control; but it retained too much diabolical cunning for that. The bronze eyes were dimmed but not dark as it stood there, glaring at me. We were at a standstill.
At last Il Gran Cavallo acknowledged defeat, at least for that day. It turned and headed across the valley. As the sun came up, I saw it slowly climbing the far ridge, and then descending behind it. And where it went after, I cannot say. I have not seen my wayward creation since; and if the Good Lord is kind to me, I never shall. I pray that it suffers a breakdown in the wild or fails to find sufficient fuel to go on, and my calculations tell me that this is the most likely event. But at night my dreams are haunted by Il Gran Cavallo, hiding in the mountains, and awaiting some chance to force me to comply with its desires.
Though I lived, I could hardly call my battle a victory. Castello di Varzi, once one of his Excellency’s strongholds, is no more. The fields which should have fed Milan in the coming siege are laid waste. The unending source of bronze which I had promised his lordship is nowhere to be found, and after his lordship invested much of the bronze of the city in that project. More than bronze, much of his treasury has been devoted to this, funds that might better have been spent on Swiss mercenaries.
So, I send this letter by a courier who swears he can deliver it despite the growing war. I pray that this reaches you so that I may throw myself upon my lady’s mercy. Though I have failed his Excellency at the last, it was not through lack of fervor and skill. I put all I had into his service, and I came very close to success. I still hope that in some way I can aid in the defense of Milan. I shall endeavor to make my way to our beloved city. I shall travel in the guise of a simple peasant, hoping that any soldier I cross will think the man on the donkey is just a man on a donkey, and not the great Leonardo, finest engineer of war in this or any age.
And if by chance Salai still lives … And if by chance he also returns to the city, and you should find upon his person a small, tarnished silver wheel … Then I entreat you to have him beaten, but not too severely. He is a good lad, after all.