Introduction: The Lioness of Forlì

Let us imagine the scene: a woman standing on the battlements of a fortress, high above the city of Forlì. Below her the crowd surges—angry, threatening, convinced that victory is within reach. Her husband, Girolamo Riario, has been murdered; her children are held hostage in enemy hands. And yet Caterina Sforza stands unmoving, head held high, her gaze fixed firmly on her adversaries. In a world where women were expected to be mothers, wives, and pawns in political alliances, she appears here as a ruler—defiant, fearless, determined not to relinquish power.

It is this moment that earned Caterina the name “the Lioness of Forlì.” An image that both shocked and fascinated her contemporaries, and that still resonates today. She was no quiet lady of the court, no patient wife lingering in the shadow of powerful men. Caterina Sforza embodied something that unsettled Renaissance Italy and yet held it in thrall: female power, openly displayed, unvarnished, enforced with sword, cunning, and unshakeable self-belief.

Why does she still exert such fascination? Perhaps because her life functions like a prism through which the contradictions of her age are refracted. Politics and passion, intrigue and battle, courage and scandal—all are present in her story. She was the daughter of a duke, the wife of a papal nephew, ruler of Forlì and Imola, lover, mother, prisoner. In her, the splendor and the brutality of the Renaissance are equally reflected—a fusion of dazzling ascent and constant, painful threat.

Origins and Early Years

Caterina was born in 1462 in Milan, the daughter of Duke Galeazzo Maria Sforza. Her father, himself a controversial figure—fond of splendor, cruel, driven by eccentric whims—shaped the atmosphere in which she grew up. The Sforza court was a center of power, but also a place of constant intrigue. From childhood, Caterina learned that closeness to power always meant danger as well, that brilliance and threat stood side by side.

At the same time, the court offered her an unusually broad education. Like many daughters of the high nobility, she was instructed in religion and household management, but she also received training in Latin, music, dance, and literature. The Renaissance in northern Italy was at its height, and from an early age Caterina moved in a world where humanists, artists, and courtiers stood alongside one another. She listened to speeches, witnessed magnificent processions, and took part in the daily life of a court that combined learning and violence—precisely the mixture that made the Quattrocento so distinctive.

Yet it was not education that determined her fate, but politics. Still a very young girl, she was drawn into a marriage alliance shaped less by her own wishes than by the interests of her house. She married Girolamo Riario, a grandnephew of Pope Sixtus IV. In this union two powerful lines were joined: the ambitious Sforza dynasty and the papal family della Rovere—a bond that promised both power and new dangers.

For Caterina, the marriage meant entry into the Roman world of the Curia, where intrigue and power struggles were conducted on an entirely different scale. As Girolamo’s wife, she initially lived in Rome, amid the palaces of cardinals, the corridors of the Vatican, and the festivities of noble families. There she learned the perilous game of alliances, saw how quickly bonds could dissolve, and understood that power in Renaissance Italy was rarely secure.

Soon, however, her center of life shifted to the Emilia-Romagna, to Imola and Forlì—cities Girolamo received as papal fiefs. For Caterina, this meant a move from the metropolis of Rome to the provinces. Yet it was precisely there that her true destiny would unfold.

The Rise to Power

With Girolamo’s appointment as Count of Forlì, Caterina’s path to power began. She followed her husband to the new residence, and although outwardly she assumed the role of the young wife, the sources soon reveal her involvement in political decisions.

Girolamo Riario was powerful, but by no means popular. His rule was marked by corruption, arbitrariness, and mismanagement, and unrest soon began to simmer in Forlì. Caterina, who bore several children during these years, supported her husband not only in private matters but increasingly also appeared in public affairs. Contemporary observers report that she held audiences, received petitioners, and intervened with confidence in matters of administration.

It seemed as though she had been preparing for this role all her life. In an age in which women usually remained in the background, Caterina developed an attitude that would later form the core of her myth. She learned to speak with soldiers as well as with envoys, knew how to counter threats with cool determination, and presented herself as a woman who understood that, at the decisive moment, she would have to act alone.

The Famous Moment: The Siege of 1488

The turning point came in 1488. Girolamo Riario was widely hated, and in a conspiracy he fell victim to the daggers of his enemies in his own palace. The citizens of Forlì now sensed their chance to cast off the yoke of Riario–Sforza rule. Caterina seemed easy prey.

But she acted very differently from what was expected. Instead of fleeing or submitting, she entrenched herself in the fortress of Ravaldino, the strategic heart of Forlì. From there she organized the resistance, had walls repaired, gates locked, and artillery positioned.

A scene became famous—perhaps more legend than fact, yet decisive for her reputation. When her opponents threatened to kill her children unless she surrendered the fortress, Caterina is said to have shouted down from the battlements that her children meant nothing to her—she could always bear new ones. A monstrous, almost inhuman reply, which shocked her enemies and filled her supporters with awe.

Whether she truly spoke these words remains uncertain. It is more likely that the episode was embellished over time to sharpen the image of the “Lioness of Forlì.” Yet regardless of its factual accuracy, the legend reveals what Caterina represented in the eyes of her contemporaries: a woman who did not play by the rules of female virtue, but by those of power.

The siege of 1488 ultimately ended in her victory. Caterina held her position and continued to rule in the name of her underage son. From a young widow she had become an independent ruler—and the chroniclers recorded her name with astonishment.

Rule in Forlì and Imola

Caterina assumed the regency of Forlì and Imola in the name of her son Ottaviano – yet everyone knew that it was she who made the decisions. With remarkable energy, she threw herself into the task of securing her family’s threatened inheritance. Three pillars guided her actions: alliances, military strength, and uncompromising control over the fortresses.

But ruling meant far more than supplying troops or receiving envoys. Caterina also intervened in the everyday affairs of the cities. She had tax registers reviewed, oversaw the provision of grain, and issued regulations for markets and customs duties. Citizens could seek her out in audience to present petitions or disputes – and reports describe how she ruled with a sharp intellect and often surprising severity. For many subjects, she was more tangible and present than many a male ruler.

She paid particular attention to security. Travelers were to reach Imola without hindrance, merchants were to sell their goods freely. To that end, Caterina had guard posts established, roads repaired, and the trade in grain and wine encouraged. That a woman concerned herself so intensely with matters of infrastructure struck many contemporaries as unusual – yet it was precisely this that earned her respect.

Her energy was most visibly expressed in the fortresses. Caterina was convinced that her power rested on stone and mortar. She had the walls of Ravaldino strengthened, new bastions built, and personally consulted with engineers about the deployment of artillery. Chroniclers recount how she herself climbed the scaffolding, examined plans, and urged soldiers on – as if she were master builder and captain at once. Some noted with astonishment that she spoke about technical matters otherwise discussed only among fortress builders and military engineers.

At the same time, she understood that her rule could endure only with the support of the leading families. After the upheavals of 1488, she sought to appease former opponents – sometimes through concessions, sometimes through the shrewd distribution of offices and marriage alliances. She reduced certain taxes, promoted crafts and markets, and thus showed that she intended more than merely to stand on the walls. Caterina understood that cities are not governed by weapons alone, but also by trust.

Battles, Victories, and Defeats

The year 1499 brought the decision. Cesare Borgia, now elevated to Duke of Valentinois and backed by French troops, began his great campaign in the Romagna. One city after another fell to him, sometimes through violence, sometimes through intimidation. Caterina, however, refused to bend to his will.

When the Borgias stood before Forlì, she prepared the defence with unyielding energy. Once again she took up position in the fortress of Ravaldino, once again she appealed to the courage of her subjects. Chroniclers report how she appeared personally on the walls, issued orders, supervised the positioning of the artillery and instilled confidence in the soldiers. This was not mere symbolism, but an expression of her conviction that the city could hold out if morale remained strong.

The siege lasted for weeks. Time and again the attackers assaulted the walls, and time and again they were driven back. Cesare Borgia himself is said to have been impressed by the tenacity of the “Lioness of Forlì,” and in Rome people watched with tense attention to see whether he would succeed in defeating this unyielding woman.

In the end, however, overwhelming force decided the outcome. In December 1499 the troops managed to breach the walls and take the city. Caterina held out to the last, but even the walls of Ravaldino could not stand forever. The fortress was stormed, and Caterina was taken prisoner — led to Rome as a trophy in the Borgias’ triumph.

Her imprisonment was harsh, but not permanent. After several months she was released — probably because Cesare Borgia knew that, as a woman, she no longer posed a lasting threat. Politically, her game was over: Forlì and Imola remained in Borgia hands, and Caterina’s time as a ruler came to an end.

Yet despite her defeat, the impression she left was overwhelming. Hardly anyone dared to oppose Cesare Borgia so openly — and certainly not a woman. Her resistance became part of her legend, and her downfall did nothing to diminish the renown she earned as a fearless fighter.

Private Life and Love Affairs

Alongside politics and warfare, Caterina’s life was marked by intense love affairs. Soon after the death of her first husband, Girolamo Riario, she fell in love with Giacomo Feo, a mercenary commander and trusted associate of her late husband. Their relationship was passionate – and deeply scandalous to contemporaries. That a young widow should so openly take a lover at her side was considered shocking by many. Caterina, however, paid no heed to the gossip.

Giacomo did not come from a noble house, but from modest origins. Through courage and skill he had worked his way up in mercenary service. It was precisely this that made the relationship intolerable to many nobles: a Sforza binding herself to a man whose name carried no weight. Yet what others despised as a flaw was exactly what appealed to Caterina – the freedom to act according to her own will. Chroniclers report that she received him not only in her private chambers but also displayed him at official occasions. She presented him with an openness that was almost demonstrative – as if she wished the world to know that she was not only mistress of a city, but also of her own heart.

More than that, she sought Feo’s counsel, entrusted him with tasks in administration and military matters, and it seemed as though she had found in him a partner who not only desired her, but also understood and supported her. Particularly striking was the fact that Caterina endowed him with powers usually reserved for close relatives or long-standing followers. For some this was proof of a great love; for others, a dangerous weakness.

This relationship, too, ended tragically. In 1495 Giacomo Feo fell victim to an assassination, probably instigated by rival noble families. Caterina was devastated, and sources report that she remained in deep mourning for days before transforming her grief into action. She had the suspected perpetrators pursued and executed – an act of vengeance as public as her love had been. In her way of loving as in her way of fighting, Caterina was uncompromising.

Later she married again: Giovanni de’ Medici, a Florentine nobleman. With him she shared another passionate chapter of her life. From this marriage came her most famous son: Giovanni delle Bande Nere, the mercenary leader who entered history as one of the last great condottieri and became the progenitor of the Tuscan Medici dukes.

Caterina’s love life was already portrayed as scandalous in her own time – and long thereafter. Chroniclers depicted her as a frivolous, licentious woman who missed no opportunity for passion. Yet these judgments can also be read differently: as expressions of male anxiety in the face of a woman who refused to submit to conventional rules. Caterina lived her relationships openly, chose her partners herself, and intertwined the private and the political as naturally as many men did. What was seen in them as a sign of strength was condemned in her as excess. In truth, this once again reveals her self-confidence – and her determination to live by her own standards.

Late Years and Death

After her release, Caterina withdrew to Florence. She no longer lived there as a ruler, but as a private individual; yet her energy was now devoted entirely to her family. Above all, she became a formative presence for her children, whom she supported with tireless determination. Giovanni in particular, her son from her marriage to Giovanni de’ Medici, grew up under her care. She educated and shaped him – the Giovanni who would later enter history as Giovanni delle Bande Nere, the last great condottiere of Italy.

In her later years, Caterina’s interest in alchemy, medicine, and poisons attracted particular attention. In Florence she devoted herself passionately to experiments with medicinal plants, distilled essences, and prepared ointments and tinctures that served both as remedies and as subtle poisons. Some sources even report that she maintained a small private laboratory in which she collected recipes combining medical knowledge with mysterious alchemical practices.

Some of these recipes have survived to this day. In a manuscript traditionally attributed to Caterina Sforza and preserved in Florence, one finds instructions for remedies against fever, salves for wounds, but also mixtures of herbs and minerals whose purpose is only hinted at. Even the sound of the ingredients – myrrh, hemlock, lapis lazuli, saffron – evokes the magic of an age in which science and mysticism were still closely intertwined. Caterina thus stood within a long tradition: Hildegard of Bingen had already described the powers of plants, and Arab physicians had transmitted knowledge of medicines. Yet in Caterina’s hands this knowledge acquired a personal, almost secretive quality.

Contemporaries described her as a woman who spent hours in her chambers bent over crucibles and phials, surrounded by the scents of herbs and the smoke of distillates. To some she was a learned healer who alleviated illness and took human suffering seriously. To others she was a dangerous poisoner, always carrying an invisible weapon. She was probably both: a woman who discovered in the healing and poisonous substances of nature a form of power that no one could take from her.

Perhaps this turn toward alchemy was also a symbol of her life. After losing fortresses, burying lovers, and surrendering political power, she sought another form of sovereignty in garden and laboratory. Control over recipes, the power to bring healing or death, became a final, quiet realm in which she remained unchallenged.

Caterina Sforza died in Florence in 1509, only forty-seven years old. She had waged wars, lost lovers, defended fortresses, borne children, and survived intrigues – a life full of drama, passion, and unbroken energy.

Legacy and Myth

Already in her own lifetime, Caterina Sforza was a controversial figure. Some contemporaries saw in her a heroine who possessed the courage to continue where others had long since capitulated. Others reviled her as a fury, as an intriguing woman who, with unwomanly harshness, forced her way into a sphere reserved for men alone. Not infrequently she was even labeled a witch—not in the literal sense, but as a cipher for everything uncanny and unpredictable that people could not comprehend in a woman.

The chroniclers of the Renaissance agreed on one point: Caterina was extraordinary. Whether she deserved admiration or abhorrence, however, was fiercely disputed. It was precisely this ambivalence that ensured her name did not vanish in the current of history, but continued to live on.

In the centuries that followed, her image gradually began to change. In the nineteenth century, when Romanticism rediscovered the great figures of the past, Caterina became a symbol of female strength. Historians and writers saw in her one of the few women who could counter the male-dominated image of the Renaissance. Her famous scene on the battlements of Forlì was retold again and again, often without regard for historical accuracy—what mattered was the effect it produced: the image of a woman who remained unyielding in the greatest danger and held her ground even under extreme pressure.

Today, Caterina Sforza has long since become a projection screen. For contemporary feminist perspectives, she stands as an example of a woman who was not merely a pawn of politics, but an active agent who shaped events, fought, and raised her voice. In popular culture, she appears as a character in novels, films, and video games. She features, for instance, in the popular video game Assassin’s Creed—as a fighter, an intriguer, part of that mythical Renaissance that continues to fire the imagination.

That her story is still told shows how powerful its fascination remains. Caterina Sforza has not become a marginal figure; she endures as a woman around whom interpretations and ideas of power and femininity continue to ignite—right up to the present day.

Conclusion

Caterina Sforza was no ordinary princess. She was a woman who asserted herself against all expectations: a widow who became a ruler; a mother who turned into a warrior; a lover who lived her passions openly. She experienced power and powerlessness alike—the triumph on the walls of Forlì and the bitter defeat at the hands of Cesare Borgia.

Poised between reality and legend, her image has remained dazzling to this day. Perhaps it is precisely this tension that gives rise to her fascination: she was neither saint nor demon, but a human being full of energy, will, and contradiction. In an age when women were largely condemned to passivity, she wrote her own story—and left traces that can still be read and interpreted centuries later.

Thus Caterina Sforza is far more than a mere episode of the Italian Renaissance. She is an example of how individual personalities can reach beyond their own era. A lioness whose roar has long since faded—and whose voice, in chronicles, legends, and stories, still echoes today.