Chapter I

THE ITALIAN WARS, 1494–1518

Political condition of France—Regency of Anne of Beaujeu—The Italian Expedition—Political Condition of Italy—Charles attacks Naples—League of Venice—Battle of Fornovo—Retreat and Death of Charles VIII.—Savonarola—Home Policy of Louis XII.—Louis attacks Milan—Treaty of Granada and attack on Naples—Quarrel between Louis and Ferdinand—Battles of Seminara, Cerignola, and Garigliano—French driven from Naples—Alexander VI. and Cæsar Borgia—League of Cambray—Battle of Agnadello—The Holy League—Battle of Ravenna—French driven from Italy—Medici restored to Florence, and Maximilian Sforza to Milan—Conquest of Spanish Navarre—Break-up of Holy League—Louis XII. succeeded by Francis I.—Battle of Marignano—Concordat of Bologna—Treaties of Noyon and London—Causes of decline of Venice.

§ 1. The Expedition of Charles VIII.

At the date of the Italian expedition, Charles VIII. had been eleven years on the throne of France. The monarchy to which he succeeded was, perhaps, less controlled by constitutional checks than any other in Europe. The crown had earned popularity as the leader in the struggle against the English—a struggle which had created the French nation; and as the patron of the middle classes against the feudal nobles. The Estates-General, the deliberative assembly of the kingdom, had never succeeded in vindicating its claims. The class divisions which divided it, as they did the people, had prevented united action. The third estate did not adequately represent the middle classes; the knights of the shire, those valuable representatives of the country districts, who had formed the backbone of the English House of Commons, did not exist. With these defects, the Estates-General had failed to secure the command of the purse, or to control the legislation and administration of the country. All power accordingly lay with the Royal Council, a body of royal nominees who issued ordinances and levied taxes at their will, so long as they did not entrench on the privileges of the nobility to be free from all direct taxation beyond their feudal dues.

True, the ‘Parlement’ of Paris, the supreme judicial court of the realm, tried to exercise a power of veto by insisting on its right of registering, and therefore of refusing to register, the royal edicts. The King, however, could easily overcome this opposition by holding a ‘Lit de Justice,’—that is, by summoning the members of the Parlement before the Great Council, and ordering them to register; and under a strong King, at least, the Parlement became the humble instrument rather than the opponent of the crown.2

As Charles was in his fourteenth year on the death of his father Louis XI. in 1483, a regency was notCharles VIII. under the guardianship of Anne of Beaujeu, 1483–1492. Her successful policy. necessary according to the ordinance of Charles V. (1374). But Louis XI., conscious of the way in which he had from policy or from cynicism3 neglected his son’s education, had intrusted him to the guardianship of his daughter Anne, wife of the Sire de Beaujeu, who, on the death of his elder brother in 1488, became Duke of Bourbon.

Of Anne Louis XI. had said ‘she is the least foolish woman in France.’ But her conduct during the earlier years of Charles’ reign belied his further remark that ‘of wise women he knew none.’ She had, in the interests of centralisation at least, though perhaps to the permanent loss of her country, successfully evaded the claims made by the States-General of 1484 to share in the government. She had defeated the repeated attempts of the nobility headed by Louis of Orleans, the heir-presumptive, to oust her from power, and to restore feudal licence—a movement which had been supported by Francis II. Duke of Brittany, by Maximilian, then King of the Romans, by Richard III., and subsequently by Henry VII. of England.

On the death of Francis, Duke of Brittany (1488), she had interfered in the affairs of the duchy and won by arms the hand of Anne, the Bretonne heiress, for the young King. By the marriage-contract the autonomy of Brittany was indeed acknowledged, but it was agreed that the duchy should fall to the survivor, and the Duchess Anne bound herself, in the event of her husband dying before her without children, to marry the next possessor of the French throne. Thus the way was prepared for the final incorporation into the monarchy of the last great semi-independent feudatory state, so long a thorn in the side of France.

This brilliant triumph of diplomacy aroused all the enemies of France. Maximilian had a double affront to avenge. He himself had been married by proxy to Anne of Brittany, while Charles VIII. had at the Treaty of Arras, 1482, plighted his troth to Margaret, Maximilian’s daughter. Thus, by Charles’ marriage with the Breton Duchess, both the Emperor and his daughter were jilted. Stung by this twofold insult, Maximilian forthwith laid claim to Margaret’s dower, Artois and Franche-Comté, and tried to enforce his claims by arms. Henry VII. attempted to prevent the union of Brittany with France, and Ferdinand of Aragon seized the opportunity to reclaim Roussillon, which had been ceded to Louis XI.

The claim of Maximilian to the dower of his daughter was a just one and could scarce be denied. But the cession of Roussillon should have been resisted at all hazards, while the interference of Henry VII. might have been answered by a resolute attempt to regain Calais and drive the English finally from the kingdom. Whether France was strong enough for so bold a stroke may perhaps be doubted, but at least her policy should have been devoted to the strengthening of her frontiers and the consolidation of the kingdom.

Unfortunately at this moment Charles had become infatuated with the idea of the Italian expedition. Being now old enough to act independently of his sister, heCharles bent on the Italian expedition makes peace with his enemies. hurriedly yielded to the demands of his enemies. Henry VII. was bought off by the Treaty of Étaples, November 1492. Cerdagne and Roussillon were ceded to Ferdinand by the Treaty of Barcelona, January 1493, and by the Treaty of Senlis, May 1493, the princess Margaret was restored to her father with Artois and Franche-Comté. Having thus evaded his difficulties near home, Charles hurried on his preparations for the Italian campaign.

After the fall of the Roman Empire, Italy had rapidly lost all national cohesion. In spite of fruitless attempts which were made now and again to establish a unitedCondition of Italy in 1494. kingdom in the Peninsula, the principle of disintegration had finally triumphed. The Emperors of the West indeed had claimed supremacy, but, since the close of the thirteenth century, this had ceased to be a reality, and on the ruins of those claims, amidst numerous smaller states, five had risen to special prominence.

In the centre of the plain of Lombardy stood Milan, which at the close of the thirteenth century had fallen to the Visconti. That cruel but capable family, whileMilan. they destroyed the liberties, extended the dominion of the republic, and absorbed most of the smaller states of the plain which escaped the rule of Venice. The territory, which on the extinction of the male line of the Visconti was seized by the Condottiere, Francesco Sforza (1450), stretched from the river Adda, where it marched with the Venetian lands, to the Sesia, where it met Piedmont then under the Duke of Savoy, and the Marquisate of Montferrat. In 1476, the son of Francesco, Galeazzo Maria, had paid the penalty of his tyranny, lust, and cruelty at the hands of three Milanese nobles who, if tyrannicide may ever be defended, are worthy of the name of patriots. He left a widow Bona of Savoy, who ruled in the name of her infant son Gian Galeazzo, aided by her husband’s wisest counsellor, Francesco Simonetta. Three years later, 1479, Ludovico ‘Il Moro,’ uncle of the young Gian, overthrew her rule, caused Simonetta to be executed, and assumed the regency. Ludovico, though ambitious, unscrupulous, and a lover of intrigue, was not wantonly cruel as many of his predecessors had been, and, if his rule was a despotic one, he was a liberal patron of the arts and kept his dominions contented and at peace.

To the east of the Duchy of Milan stood the republic of Venice. Once a democracy, she had by the close of the thirteenth centuryVenice. become a commercial oligarchy. At the close of the fifteenth century, not only did the Great Council monopolise the electoral functions of the state, but the Doge himself had become little more than an ornamental figure-head.4 Venice originally had concerned herself little with the politics of the mainland. Entrenched behind her lagoons, she had turned her attention to the Mediterranean and the East, from whence came her commerce, the source of her wealth. At the commencement of the fifteenth century, however, she had turned her eye westward to form a territory on the mainland.5 In this venture she had indeed met with great success, and, besides her possessions on the east of the Adriatic, in the Morea, and the Ægean Sea, she now ruled a large territory north of the Po, which stretched westwards to the Adda and northwards to the spurs of the Alps. But this policy had drawn her into the troubled tangle of Italian politics, and aroused the jealousy of the Italian states. Still Venice was formidable. By the treaty of 1479, she had surrendered indeed Scutari, Negropont, and most of her possessions in the Morea, but had retained her commercial privileges, and secured a temporary peace with the Turk. In 1488, she annexed, by a fiction of remarkable ingenuity, the island of Cyprus.

The rule of her aristocracy was far less corrupt and far more consistent than that of other Italian states. The stability of her Government and her immunity from those revolutions to which the other states of Italy were ever subject excited the envy of her neighbours. The leniency and wisdom with which she governed her dependencies secured her the loyalty of her subjects. Her riches were still great; her patronage of art magnificent; and if the tone of private morality was low, it was not lower than in the rest of Italy.

To the south and south-west of Venice lay the two independent territories of Mantua and of Ferrara.Mantua and Ferrara. Of these Mantua, situated amid the marshy flats of the Mincio, belonged to the warrior family of the Gonzagas, while Ferrara, commanding the mouths of the Po, was ruled by the ancient house of Este.

Nestling under the Apennines, Florence held the watershed of the Arno with her dependent cities of Volterra,Florence. Arezzo, Cortona, Pistoja, and Pisa. To the north-west and to the south of her lay the independent states of Lucca and Siena, long her deadly enemies.

Nominally a republic based on a system of trade-guilds, Florence was practically in the hands of the Medici, who, while they left the outward form of the constitution intact, kept the government in the hands of their partisans. From time to time a packed ‘Parliament’ of the citizens elected committees or Balías, under whose control the Signory and other officials were selected. Finally, in 1480, a college of seventy, practically nominated by Lorenzo, took for a time the place of the Balías. This college not only nominated the Signory, but elected the Consiglio Maggiore, the legislative body of the republic, and thus became master of the city. A clever manipulation of the taxes, by which they struck at the rich, gained the Medici the support of the lower classes, while the confusion of the public treasury with the finances of their banking-house gave them the final control of the administration.6 The rule of the Medici was a far more temperate one than that of the Sforza of Milan. Their power was the result of real political genius. By that alone they had succeeded in controlling the most restless, the most acute, and the most brilliant people the world had yet seen since the days of the Athenians. In Florence was concentrated the essence of Italian art and literature, and with it, alas, much of that immorality and licence which stains the glory of the Renaissance. Unfortunately, at this crisis of her history, Lorenzo the Magnificent, the type of a Medicean prince, died (April 1492), and, under the incapable rule of his son Piero, the authority of the family was being rapidly undermined.

Encircling the territories of Siena and Florence on the south and the east, and stretching across the centre of Italy The Papal States.from sea to sea, stood the Papal States, formed of the Patrimony of St. Peter, the Campagna, the Duchy of Spoleto, the March of Ancona and the Romagna.

Of these territories all, except the two first, while acknowledging the suzerainty of the Pope, were practically independent, and in the Patrimony and in the Campagna, the powerful families of the Orsini and the Colonna were ever setting his authority at defiance. It had been of late the policy of the Popes to enforce their rule in these districts and to organise a strong temporal dominion, a policy definitely begun by Sixtus IV. (1471–1484). They are probably right who maintain that by this means alone could the Papacy hope to survive. The mediæval conception of the Holy Roman Empire had gone beyond recall. The idea of a united Christendom under one faith was no longer a reality. Largely, though by no means entirely, through its own deficiencies, the Papacy had lost its moral hold on Europe, and the attempt of Nicolas V. (1447–1455) and Pius II. (1458–1464) to regain the intellectual leadership of Europe had met with scant success. During the period of the captivity of Avignon (1309–1377), and the great Schism (1378–1417), the power of the larger Italian states, and the lust for further extension, had grown. Under these circumstances, if the Papacy was to save itself from falling as low as it had fallen in the tenth century, when it was the puppet of the neighbouring nobles, it must needs follow suit, and form a strong and united dominion. Yet the necessity cost it dear. Sucked into the vortex of political intrigue, the Papacy prostituted its spiritual powers for these secular objects and shocked the conscience of Europe. Unfortunately the Popes who ascended the papal throne at this moment were men of low principle. Sixtus IV. (1471–1484) was venal, and sacrificed everything for the advancement of his nephews. Innocent VIII. (1484–1492), hopelessly corrupt and indolent, was the first Pope who openly acknowledged his children; while of Rodrigo Borgia, who ruled as Pope Alexander VI. from 1492 to 1503, it is difficult to speak with moderation. To enumerate the charges which have been brought against him would exhaust the crimes of the decalogue. Even if we dismiss those charges on which the evidence is not conclusive, it cannot be denied that Alexander was profligate beyond ordinary profligacy, contemptuous of the ordinary conventionalities of decency, avaricious and cruel, and in statesmanship absolutely without scruple.

The desire of the Popes to form a temporal dominion was also injurious to Italy.7 Not strong enough to unite the Peninsula under their own sway, they were determined to prevent its union under any other hands. In this attempt to reconcile their interests as head of the Church with those of a temporal prince, they were ever ready to barter away their country’s liberties. They had more than once before this summoned the foreigner to their aid, and, if they were not responsible for the first invasion of the French, they went far to make the foreign dominion permanent.

The extremity of the Peninsula formed the kingdom of Naples, now in the hands of Ferrante I. (1458–1494), illegitimate son of Alfonso the Magnanimous, of Aragon; while Sicily and Sardinia belonged, with Aragon, to the legitimate branch represented just now by Ferdinand the Catholic (1479–1516). Always the most disturbed of the Italian states, Naples had in 1485 been the scene of a baronial revolt against the tyranny of Ferrante. The King, indeed, by cunning and ability had triumphed, but his faithlessness and inhuman cruelties had made him most unpopular, and his rule most insecure. He died in January 1494, to be succeeded by his son Alfonso II. (1494–1495), who, according to the French chronicler Commines, though not so dangerous, was a worse man than his father, since ‘never was any prince more bloody, wicked, inhuman, lascivious, or gluttonous than he.’

The rivalry of these five states, mutually repellent, yet unable to establish complete independence, was to cause the ruin of Italy.Rivalry of these states. Too equally balanced to allow of the supremacy of one, too jealous of each other and too divergent in the character of their peoples and the form of their governments to unite in a federal bond, they lost all sense of common national interest. The existence of numerous petty states between their frontiers, which could only hope to survive by dexterous intrigue, excited their cupidity and thickened the thread of treacherous diplomacy which was now to call the foreigner into Italy.

But if the quarrels of these Italian rulers led to the first invasion, and subsequently prevented any permanent coalition, Intellectual activity and moral degradation of the Italians. the condition of the people of Italy destroyed all hope of successful resistance. In reading the social history of Italy during the fifteenth century two lessons are forced upon us: first, the fatal effect of the loss of liberty, and of political faction on the moral fibre of a people; secondly, the danger of luxury, and of devotion to art and literature, if not chastened by the religious spirit.

In states like Milan and Naples, where all political liberty had been destroyed, the only weapons of the oppressed were those the tyrant had taught them—intrigue and assassination. In cities like Florence, where constitutional forms remained but the spirit had fled, and where the state was torn by deadly feuds which vented themselves in cruel proscription and exile of the defeated, the people were inspired by mutual suspicion and deep political hatreds. To lose power was to lose everything. Hence men became desperate, forgot the necessity for patience, the duty of a minority, and sought to overthrow their enemies by secret conspiracy or open revolt. In the smaller states things were worse. There was even less stability, the factions were more bitter, the chance of successful revolt greater. No doubt Venice and the Papal Dominions were more stable than the rest of the Peninsula, but even there intrigue, corruption, and conspiracies were not uncommon.

Amid such political circumstances as these, not only did all feeling of Italian nationality perish, but patriotism for city or kingdom died before the imperative instincts of self-preservation. The worship of success replaced devotion to principle and obedience to authority, while cleverness and selfishness flourished at the expense of morality. Moreover, to protect themselves or to pursue their schemes of conquest, the tyrants introduced the Condottieri. The republics, partly from indolence, partly from the difficulty of resisting the trained soldier with a half-disciplined militia, followed suit, and Italy became the victim of mercenaries. Of war these made a game: with no interest in the quarrels beyond their wage, or their individual ambitions, they loved the battlefield by which they lived, yet did not wish the battle to be decisive. Ever ready to change sides at the dictates of self-interest, or for higher pay, they set up and overthrew states and spread confusion around. Meanwhile the citizens forgot the art of war, and, when the moment of their trial came, finding themselves no match for the martial nations of the North, were frightened at the fury of their onslaught.

The rapid increase of luxury and the development of literature and art tended to the same results. Undue devotion to material comfort made the Italians cowardly, selfish, and indolent. The revival of the critical faculty led to scepticism; the critic destroyed indeed, but had not the enthusiasm nor the faith to reconstruct. The return to classical ideals caused a revival of paganism, while the concentration of man’s mind on the pleasures of art, on the sensuous delight in beauty of form and colour, led many on to sensuality. The history of the Renaissance stands as a warning that the æsthetic spirit is not necessarily religious or even moral. No doubt it is easy to exaggerate. No doubt there were to be found many who lived a pure and simple life. Perhaps the denunciations of an enthusiast like Savonarola8 are too extravagant. But the contemporary evidence against the Italians is overwhelming. The literature of the time must have found readers. The cynical frankness with which Machiavelli disregards all moral scruples in his treatises on the art of government are without parallel in the history of political literature, and the carnival songs of Lorenzo are of themselves enough to convince us of the depths of degradation to which Italian morality had sunk. Thus Italy, without any sense of nationality or patriotism, and devoid of those more sterling qualities which might have rendered resistance possible, was to see her fair plains the scene of other nations’ rivalries, and to fall eventually under the yoke of a foreign dominion which lasted till our own day.

The French claims on Italy were twofold, and were of long standing. The House of Orleans, in virtue of theirFrench claims on Italy. descent from Valentina, heiress of the Visconti of Milan, looked upon themselves as the legitimate aspirants to the ducal throne, and considered the Sforzas usurpers. The House of Anjou disputed the title of the Aragonese kings of Naples and declared that Joanna II., who died in 1435, had left her territories to René, the head of their house. The claims of the House of Orleans were now represented by Louis of Orleans, cousin of Charles VIII., who already held Asti, while those of the House of Anjou had in 1481 fallen to the crown, together with Anjou and Provence, according to the will of René I., the last Duke of Anjou. Louis XI. had contented himself with Anjou and Provence, but his foolish and ambitious son, fascinated with the dream of a southern kingdom which might serve as a starting-point for a new crusade against the Turk, was eager to enforce his claims in Italy. Yet even Charles might have hesitated if a quarrel between Milan and Naples had not offered a tempting opportunity.

In 1435, Alfonso the Magnanimous, the rival of René of Anjou for the kingdom of Naples, had warned Filippo Maria, who then ruled Milan, that the French, onceThe Peace of Italy depended on the Triple Alliance of Milan, Florence, and Naples. masters of Naples, would seek to extend their territories in the north. Francesco Sforza, who secured Milan shortly after Filippo’s death (1450), conscious that the legitimate claim to Milan had passed with the hand of Valentina to the French House of Orleans, needed no convincing. The result had been a close alliance between these two powers, which had been strengthened by the marriage of Ippolita, Sforza’s daughter, with Alfonso, Prince of Calabria. Lorenzo, true to the traditional policy of the Medici, had joined this league. He hoped, by a triple alliance of Milan, Naples, and Florence, to maintain the balance of power in Italy, resist the desire for territorial aggression shared by Venice and the Papacy, and, by keeping peace within the Peninsula, deprive the foreigner of all excuse for interference. Whether Lorenzo would have succeeded may well be doubted, but certainly his death (April 1492) removed the only man to whom success was possible.

Even before Lorenzo died, the alliance between Milan and Naples had threatened to break up. The coup d’état of 1479, by which Ludovico ‘Il Moro’ had seized the reins of power from Bona of Savoy, had received the approval of Ferrante of Naples. the following year, however (1480), the death of Ippolita, Ludovico’s sister and wife of Alfonso, son of Ferrante, broke the bond between the two families. TheRupture of the Alliance between Milan and Naples forces Ludovico to call in the foreigner. subsequent marriage of the young Gian Galeazzo, with Alfonso’s daughter, Isabella (1489), made matters worse. Alfonso became jealous of Ludovico’s rule and wished to see his son-in-law, who had in the year 1492 reached the age of twenty, recognised as duke. This jealousy was shared by Isabella, who was envious of the higher honours conferred on her kinswoman, Beatrice of Este, the wife of Ludovico.

Piero de Medici, who had just succeeded Lorenzo at Florence (1492), joined Alfonso in a secret league against Ludovico, to which Ferrante of Naples was somewhat unwillingly prevailed upon to accede. Thus the triple alliance of Milan, Naples, Florence, upon which the safety of Italy depended, was broken, and Ludovico was driven to look elsewhere for support. To Maximilian, who in 1493 was elected emperor, he gave the hand of his niece, Bianca, and gained in return the investiture of his duchy, which had hitherto been denied to the Sforza family. Despairing of more effective aid from that impecunious prince, he next turned to France. San Severino, Count of Cajazzo, was sent to ‘tickle Charles, who was but twenty-one years of age, with the vanities and glories of Italy, and to urge the right he had to the fine kingdom of Naples’ (Commines).

The policy of Ludovico has received undue condemnation. Every Italian prince had called upon the French when it suited his purpose. Hitherto Ludovico had been the most strenuous opponent of this policy, and when in 1485, Innocent VIII. had urged René II. of Lorraine to press the Angevin claims on Naples, it was he who had prevented it. Though selfish, and a master of diplomatic treachery, he was by no means the worst of the Italian princes of his day. It was the altered policy of Naples which drove him to the fatal step. Moreover, Gian Galeazzo was an incapable man, and it seems probable that Alfonso, who had an insatiable lust for power, hoped to make him his puppet. Ludovico neither desired nor expected the French to conquer Naples. Italians, indeed, had so often used the threat of foreign intervention that they had forgotten what it might mean. His appeal to Charles was but a move in the game of intrigue which all were playing, and all that can be said is that, while others had tried it without success, Ludovico succeeded, to his own ruin, and that of Italy. Nor was he the only one who at this moment called on Charles. His exhortations were supported by the Prince of Salerno, a Neapolitan fugitive, eager to avenge the cruelties which Ferrante, in violation of his promise, had exercised on the leaders of the revolt of the Barons in 1485. To these were added the solicitations of the Cardinal Julian della Rovere, the rival and deadly enemy of Borgia, who had just ascended the papal throne as Alexander VI. (August 1492).

‘The question of the expedition,’ says Philippe de Commines, ‘was warmly debated, since by all persons of experience and wisdom it was looked upon as a very dangerousCharles decides on the expedition in spite of better advice. undertaking.’ Anne of Beaujeu, her husband, and many others, did their best to dissuade the King, but ‘Charles was foolish and obstinate,’ and was supported in his obstinacy by his favourites, Stephen de Vers, once gentleman of the Chamber, now Seneschal of Beaucaire, and Briçonnet, Bishop of St. Malo; the one hoping for lands in Naples, the other for a cardinal’s hat, promised by the Milanese ambassadors. The younger nobles, eager for the spoils of Italy, joined in the cry, and Charles rashly started on an enterprise ‘for which neither his exchequer, his understanding, nor his preparations sufficed.’

In August, the King, who had wasted the spring and early summer at Lyons, spending on festivities and onCharles crosses the Alps. Sept. 2, 1494. amorous intrigues the money he had collected or borrowed for his expedition, passed down the Rhone to Vienne, and thence crossed the Alps by the pass of Mont Genèvre (September 2). His army was not exclusively a French one, for German landsknechts and Swiss mercenaries also accompanied it. Thus it was a fit harbinger of those foreign invasions which were for the next hundred years to desolate the fair plains of Italy.

At Asti, where Ludovico met him, he was delayed first by his gaieties, then by illness, and it was not until the 6th of October that he left Asti for Piacenza. Here the question as to his future course was debated. He was now to leave the territories of his ally. Venice to the north-east was neutral. The Pope, had after some hesitation, decided to resist the French. In Florence, opinion was much divided. The citizens, true to their traditions, were for the French, and were strengthened in their views by the warnings of Savonarola that a scourge should chastise Italy. Piero, on the other hand, was in league with Naples. Finally, it was decided to choose the more western route by the Via di PontremoliCharles crosses the Apennines and advances on Florence. rather than the easier way through Bologna. Charles would thus avoid the Neapolitan Prince, Ferrante, who had been sent by his father, now King Alfonso, to hold the Romagna, and would maintain his communications with the sea which had been won by the victory of the Duke of Orleans over Don Federigo, the brother of the King of Naples, at Rapallo (September 8). Florence, moreover, it was hoped, would declare for France on the king’s approach.

The pass was a difficult one, and the country through which it passed was so barren that it did not even supply forage for the horses. Had the French here been met with stubborn resistance they might never have penetrated into Tuscany, for Ludovico was beginning to repent of having called Charles into Italy. His suspicions of French designs on Milan were already aroused, and the death of his unfortunate nephew, Gian Galeazzo (October 1494), by poison, as was generally believed, removed the need of French assistance against Naples. But the divided counsels of the Florentines came to Charles’ aid. The French were left to pass the defiles undisturbed, and after sacking the town of Fivizzano, sat downPiero driven from Florence. Nov. 9, 1494. before the fortress of Sarzana. Hither Piero, terrified at the disaffection in Florence, hastened, and acceded to Charles’ demands. He promised a sum of money; he surrendered four of the most important cities: Sarzana, Pietra-Santa, Pisa, and Leghorn. These humiliating concessions still further irritated the Florentines. On Piero’s return to Florence (November 8) the citizens rushed to arms, and he was forced to fly in disguise to Venice. The defection of Florence threatened the position of Ferrante in the Romagna and opened the way to Rome. Thither therefore Ferrante retired.

Meanwhile Charles, after granting to the Pisans freedom from their hated mistress Florence, a present which was not his to give, passed on to Florence. DisregardingCharles enters Florence, and having with difficulty made terms, passes on to Rome. the warning of Savonarola that he would only be victorious if he showed mercy, especially to Florence, and was not an occasion of stumbling, he entered the city ‘with lance in rest’ as if he came as conqueror (November 17). This threatening attitude was accompanied by extravagant demands. First, he asked for the recall of Piero. That being refused, he insisted that a French lieutenant should be left in the city, whose consent should be necessary for every act. As the Florentines still demurred, the king in anger said: ‘We shall sound our trumpets.’ ‘And,’ we answered, ‘Capponi shall sound our bells.’ Seeing that he might go too far, Charles abated his demands. The Florentines consented to pay 120,000 florins in six months, and to allow two representatives of the king to remain in Florence. But the Medici were not to be recalled, and Charles promised to restore the cities ceded to him by Piero at the end of the war (November 27). Having thus settled the difficulty with Florence, Charles passed through Siena which accepted a French garrison (December 2), and advanced on Rome.

Alexander VI. had done his best for the cause of Naples, but he now became seriously alarmed. His correspondence with the Turkish Sultan, Bajazet II., in which, in return for help, the murder of the Sultan’s brother, Djem, then in Alexander’s keeping, had been mooted, had fallen into Charles’ hands. His enemies were crying for a General Council. Ostia had been seized by Fabrizio Colonna in the name of his enemy, della Rovere (September 18). He therefore determined to come to terms, and, securing a free retreat for Ferrante and his army, admitted the FrenchAlexander comes to terms. Jan. 15, 1495. within the walls of Rome, while he retired to the castle of St. Angelo. The Cardinals della Rovere and Sforza urged Charles to offer no further concessions, and to summon a General Council which should depose the Pope and proceed to reform the Church. But Briçonnet did not wish for a breach which might endanger his hope of a cardinal’s hat; Charles was scarcely the man for a reformer; the bribes of Alexander had their effect; and finally a compromise was effected. The Pope agreed to surrender Civita Vecchia, Terracina, and Spoleto, for safe keeping till the conclusion of the war, to pardon the rebellious cardinals, and to deliver up Prince Djem. He also conferred on the bishop of St. Malo the coveted cardinal’s hat, and ordered his son, Cardinal Cæsar Borgia, to accompany Charles as a hostage. No sooner had the king left Rome for the south than Cæsar slipped away, and Djem died. The death of the latter, popularly attributed to poison administered by Alexander, was probably due to natural causes; but Cæsar’s disappearance warned Charles that no trust could be placed in the promises of the Pope.

The success of the French had been so extraordinary, that Alfonso might well feel dismay.Alfonso resigns his crown and goes to Sicily. Feb. 3, 1495. He knew that his subjects hated him with a deadly hatred, and, with the cowardice so common to cruel men, he now became a victim of superstitious terror. Declaring that ‘the very stones and trees cried France,’ he resigned his crown to his son and fled to Sicily (February 3, 1495).

His son, Ferrante II., showed more spirit and joined his army at San Germano. Here a mountain pass and the river Garigliano offered a favourable opportunity for defence; but the news of the savage conduct of the French at the storming of Monte San Giovanni spread terror among his troops, and they fell back on Capua. A revolt at Naples recalled Ferrante, to find that his general, Trivulzio, had made terms with Charles. Naples now rose again, and the luckless King, declaring that he suffered for the sins of his fathers, not his own, and promising to come to the aid of his faithless subjects,Charles enters Naples. Feb. 23, 1495. should the barbarity of the French cause them to wish for his return, sailed for Sicily (February 21). On the following day Charles entered Naples, and within a few weeks all the country, with the exception of one or two fortresses, was in his hands.

‘The success of Charles,’ says Commines, ‘must be considered the work of Providence.’ Almost without breaking a lance, he had traversed the length of Italy and won a kingdom.Reaction against the French. It seemed as if his boast, that he would lead a crusade against the Turks and conquer Constantinople, would be fulfilled. But his triumph was short-lived, and ‘his fortunes changed as suddenly as the day rises in Norway.’ The French, puffed up by their success, ‘scarce considered the Italians to be men,’ and alienated them by their cruelties and licence. Charles took no steps to secure his conquest, but betook himself to his pleasures. No pains were taken to conciliate the Neapolitan nobles; all offices were conferred on Frenchmen, and the promised remission of taxes was never fulfilled.

Meanwhile a storm was gathering in the North. Ludovico had long repented of his rashness in inviting the French, and feared that Louis of Orleans might lay claim to Milan; the Pope dreaded a General Council, and was only too glad to raise up enemies against the King; Venice, which had at firstThe League of Venice. March 31, 1495. laughed at the expedition, became seriously alarmed; Ferdinand the Catholic had already remonstrated with Charles, and began to apprehend an attack on Sicily; the dignity of Maximilian was ruffled by the preponderance of the House of Valois. Negotiations between these powers had long been going on at Venice. The conquest of Naples brought matters to a climax, and on March 31, they formed the League of Venice, ostensibly to defend their territories and to prepare for war against the Turks. Guicciardini asserts that they secretly engaged to drive the French from Italy. Their object was more probably to protect themselves against further French aggression. Florence alone refused to break faith with the French, hoping to regain Pisa through their help.

With incredible folly, Charles delayed till May, in the vain hopes of receiving the papal investiture of Naples. ThenCharles retreats. hastily receiving the crown at the hands of the Archbishop of Naples, he began his retreat with scarce 10,000 men (May 20). The Count of Montpensier, ‘a good soldier,’ says Commines, ‘but with little wisdom, and so indolent that he did not rise till mid-day,’ was left as viceroy. Stephen de Vers, now Duke of Nola, was made governor of Gaëta and controller of the finances, and Stuart d’Aubigny, the best soldier of them all, governor of Calabria. As Charles approached Rome, Alexander fled to Orvieto; and thence to Perugia. Arrived in Tuscany, Charles found all in confusion. Siena, Lucca, and Pisa had formed a league against Florence, and pleaded for French assistance. The Florentines, who had reformed their government after the advice of Savonarola, demanded the restitution of the cities temporarily ceded to the King. Charles, incapable of decision, put them off with negotiations, and leaving French garrisons in the ceded towns, crossed the Apennines, June 23.

But the French were not to escape from Italy without abattle. Their fleet on the west coast protected them from the attack of Venetian or Spanish ships, but on the mainland the forces of Milan and of Venice under the MarquisThe Battle of Fornovo. July 6, 1495. of Mantua met them at Fornovo on the Taro. The army of the League had the advantage of numbers and position, and had they shown determination, might have inflicted a decisive defeat. But the Italians were little eager to bring the French to bay, and Charles, wisely wishing to pursue his march, pushed on his vanguard. It was met by the Milanese troops under the Count Cajazzo, but the attack was feeble and easily repulsed. This, according to Guicciardini, was due to Ludovico. Fearing that too complete a victory might place him in the power of the Venetian troops, which were far more numerous than his own, and that too crushing a defeat might draw on him the vengeance of the French, he had ordered his captain not to press the French too closely. Meanwhile the assault on the centre and rearguard was far more vigorous, and Charles was in momentary danger. He was, however, saved by the enemies’ want of discipline; many of the Italians turned to plunder his camp, the reserves did not attack, and the French king, with loss of baggage but not of prestige, was able to pursue his way.

At Asti, Charles was delayed by the question of Novara. Louis of Orleans had occupied that town in June, only to be besieged by Ludovico. In vain, Louis begged for instant aid. Charles would not stir till reinforcements came, and meanwhile solaced himself with amorous intrigues. Fortunately Ludovico was anxious to get the French out of Italy, and in October came to terms. Louis surrendered the town, butTreaty of Vercelli. Oct. 10, 1495. Ludovico, breaking with the League, promised to give free passage to the French, and even to assist them whenever they might march against Naples. This, however, seemed unlikely for the present.

No sooner had Charles turned his back on Naples than his conquests began to melt away. The Neapolitans, according to Guicciardini, were the most inconstant people of Italy, and the follies of the French reminded them of Ferrante’s words. Ferrante accordingly returned at the end ofCharles leaves Italy and his conquests melt away. May, aided by troops sent by Ferdinand the Catholic under Gonzalvo de Cordova, the most brilliant of the Spanish generals. Defeated by Stuart d’Aubigny at Seminara, and driven to Messina, he directed a second attack on Naples. The city rose, the gates were opened, and Montpensier took refuge in the castle (July 7), which he was forced to evacuate shortly after. The Venetians, in return for money, were allowed to occupy Monopoli, Otranto, Brindisi, and Trani. Montpensier struggled on for some time longer, hoping for reinforcements from France. But Charles was immersed in pleasure; Louis of Orleans, who was heir-presumptive to the throne, refused to leave France, and finally Montpensier capitulated at Atella (July 21, 1496). D’Aubigny, though sick with fever, held out a little longer, but by the close of the year 1496, all was lost to France. Ferrante did not live to see the end. He died in September, and his uncle Federigo quietly succeeded him. Thus five kings had sat on the throne of Naples within three years.

Of Charles’ acquisitions, the only traces which remained were the cities ceded to him by Florence. These should have been restored on his retreat, but in hopes of return, Charles had evaded his promise, and the officers he had left in command proceeded to violate it entirely. Leghorn was indeed surrendered in September, but Sarzana was sold to the Genoese, Pietra-Santa to Lucca, and the citadel of Pisa to the Pisans. Of these Pisa was only regained in 1509, after a prolonged struggle which exhausted the republic and contributed materially to its fall, Pietra-Santa not till the Medici had been restored in 1513, and Sarzana not at all. Thus the ally of France was the one to suffer most.

Charles VIII. survived the Italian expedition scarce three years. Always indulging in dreams of a renewed attack onNaples, he was at first too much engrossed in his pleasures to carry them into effect. During the last few months of his life he had, according to Commines, ‘resolvedDeath of Charles VIII. April 7, 1498. within himself to live a more strict and religious life.’ If so, death anticipated him. While staying at the castle of Amboise, which was being embellished by Neapolitan artists, he struck his head against the lintel of a door, and died at the age of twenty-seven of a fit of apoplexy which resulted from it (April 1498).

Contemptible in mind, though with great bodily strength, inspired with chivalrous ideas which he had not the capacity to execute, a victim to profligacy, it is strange that he should have played such a leading part in history, and yet it does not seem altogether unfit that those Italian wars, which caused such infinite misery in Italy, and were so disastrous to the best interests of France, should be associated with his name. His children had all died in infancy, and the crown accordingly passed to his cousin and brother-in-law, Louis, Duke of Orleans, then a man of the age of thirty-six.

§ 2. Savonarola and Florence.

A month after the death of Charles VIII., the Friar Savonarola, who had done so much to give an air of mystery to the Italian expedition, fell a victim to his enemies.

This remarkable man was born at Ferrara in 1452. Having gradually won a reputation as a preacher of wonderful power and zeal, he was in the year 1491, elected PriorSavonarola, Prior of San Marco, 1491. of the Dominican Convent of San Marco in Florence. In spite of the independent attitude which he here assumed, Lorenzo showed him no ill favour, and even summoned the friar to his deathbed to ask a blessing.9 In all probability, however, Savonarola would have remained a great revivalist preacher and nothing more, had it not been for the expedition of Charles VIII. The constant theme of his sermons had been that the scourge of God should visit Italy to punish her for her sins and purify her by fire. The French invasion, and the rapid success of Charles were looked upon as the fulfilment of his prophecy, and Savonarola became one of the leading men in Florence.

In the overthrow of the Medici he did not take an active part, but on Piero’s flight (November 1494) he was suckedSavonarola and the revolution of 1494. into the politics of the city. Supported by his powerful advocacy from the pulpit in the Duomo, and guided by his advice, the popular party, to which he naturally belonged, was able to introduce and carry a reform of the Constitution. By the decree of December 23, the government was to be as follows:—

A permanent Great Council (Consiglio Maggiore) was to be composed of all eligible ‘citizens,’ that is, of all citizens of the age of thirty whose father, grandfather, or great-grandfather had been elected to the greater offices of state. This Council, numbering some 3000, was to elect out of its own members a ‘senate’ (Consiglio degli ottanta), holding office for six months, and forming with the Consiglio Maggiore the legislative body of the city. Further, the Great Council was to nominate the Signory and other magistrates out of a list presented by a body of nominators, themselves elected in the Council, and to hear appeals on criminal cases. The Signory remained as it was before, composed of the Gonfalonier and the eight priors: it was to be elected every two months, while the Ten of Liberty and Peace (Dieci di Libertà e Pace), in whose hands lay the conduct of foreign affairs, were to hold office for six months.

The constitution can scarcely be called a democratic one, for at least 7000 citizens were disenfranchised. In common with most theorists of his day, Savonarola admired the stability of Venice, and vainly thought to secure this for his native city by establishing a closed and permanent electoral and legislative body, the Consiglio Maggiore, after the Venetian type. Nevertheless, the government was preferable to the old system, by which the city, a republic in name, had fallen into the control of a single family and their clique.

Savonarola did not content himself with this. From his pulpit he insisted on moral reformation as the necessary basis of true liberty, and pressed for a general amnesty which might allay the dangers of party strife. In thus becoming a politician, Savonarola protested that he acted unwillingly. In his sermon of December 21, 1494, he declared that he had pleaded with God to be excused from meddling with the government, but had been bidden to go on and establish a holy city, which favoured virtue and looked to Christ as its master.

That Savonarola was sincere we may well believe. None the less the interference in politics was a fatal error. Thereby he became closely associated with aSavonarola becomes associated with a political party and arouses enmity at home and abroad. party, responsible for its faults, and dependent on its success. This weakened his position as a reformer, while his adherents had henceforth to count as enemies all those who disliked his attempts at a reform of morals. A serious opposition was thus aroused. The Bigi (the Greys) worked for the restoration of the Medici; the Arrabiati (the enraged), while casting off the Medici, objected to the changes in the Constitution; the Compagnacci (companions) disliked the preacher’s interference with their pleasures. These three groups, working at first with very different aims, were eventually united together in common opposition to the Piagnoni (weepers), the followers of the friar. But if Savonarola’s interference in the politics of the city weakened his position in Florence, the attitude of his party drew down upon him the enmity of foreign statesmen. The desire to regain Pisa was an overmastering passion at Florence, and there was nothing she would not suffer to attain that end. She had refused to join the League of Venice, in the hopes of regaining Pisa from the hands of Charles. These hopes had been disappointed. Still the adherents of the friar headed by Francesco Valori, clung fondly to the dream that Charles would once more enter Italy, and at last fulfil his promise. In these expectations they were supported by the preaching of Savonarola, who announced that Italy must yet suffer much, but that eventually Florence should after much tribulation be saved by God. By thus refusing to join the League, Florence drew down upon her the enmity of Ludovico, of Maximilian, of Venice, and of the Pope. The three first in turn supported the Pisans with arms, and, in October 1496, Maximilian himself came to Italy. But mutual jealousies prevented united action, and the expedition of Maximilian ended in a fiasco.

The opposition of the Pope was to prove more serious. Alexander VI. cared but little for the denunciation of the reformerAlexander VI. interferes. Sept. 1495. against the vices of the times, but his interference with politics he would not brook. Accordingly, in September 1495, he had suspended him from preaching. Savonarola at first obeyed, and was silent during the following Advent. But, in the Lent of 1496, the Signory, then composed of the friar’s partisans, ordered him to resume his preaching. He complied, and in the Carnival of 1496, the enthusiasm of the Piagnoni broke forth in religious processions. The children swept the streets in thick array, bearing olive-branches in their hands and chanting hymns. This disobedience Savonarola justified, by declaring that no papal prohibitions should move him from his duty, and that if they contradicted the Law of Love set forth in the Gospel, they must be withstood, since ‘a Pope that errs does not represent the Church,’ of which he claimed to be a loyal son. Even this bold conduct did not immediately rouse Alexander—nay, some would fix this as the date when he tried to win the friar by the offer of a cardinal’s hat. If so, Savonarola contemptuously rejected the offer, and the Pope was driven to take further measures.

The Tuscan congregation of the Dominican order had, at Savonarola’s request, been separated from that of Lombardy. This had given him a position of exceptional independence, which aroused the jealousy of many of his order. Alexander now united the convent of San Marco with a new formed Tusco-Roman congregation (Nov. 7, 1496). This was clearly within the competence of the Pope, it was popular with the order generally, and the Pope hoped to strike at the friar through a superior of his own brotherhood. Savonarola, however, refused to obey, and was supported by some 250 of his brethren of San Marco. The Carnival of 1497 followed. Here the enthusiasm of the Piagnoni reached its highest pitch. The children going from house to house begged for ‘vanities.’ Cards, trinkets, immodest books, pictures, works of art, were handed up, and these, heaped promiscuously in one common pyre, were solemnly burned in the Piazza. These and other extravagances, which unfortunately cannot be denied,10 disgusted many, and added to the number of the friar’s enemies. The reaction was seen in the election of Bernardo delReaction against Savonarola. Nero, a secret adherent of the Medici, to the office of Gonfalonier, March 1497; in the unsuccessful attempt of Piero to regain Florence in April, and in a riot in the Duomo, raised by the Compagnacci, while Savonarola preached, on Ascension Day, May 4.

Influenced, perhaps, by the knowledge that Savonarola was losing ground, Alexander now decided to strike. After a vain appeal to the Florentines, in which he even promisedThe Pope excommunicates him. May 1497. to regain Pisa for them if they would join the League, a promise which they prudently distrusted, he declared that they were being misled by the prophecies of a chattering friar, and proceeded to excommunicate him, May 1497. The Signory meanwhile had attempted to stay the excitement in Florence by forbidding all preaching either from Savonarola or his opponents, and things remained more quiet for a time.

The elections of July, however, again gave the Piagnoni a majority in the Signory; and in August, the city was startled by the news that five of the leading citizens stoodThe Piagnoni regain power. accused of complicity with the Medicean plot of the preceding April. On condemnation, they were refused their right of appeal to the Great Council, contrary to the express provision of the new Constitution, and executed. The condemned belonged to Savonarola’s opponents, and some of them, notably Bernardo del Nero, had lately held office. Their execution therefore, for a time, materially strengthened Savonarola’s position, and from this date until the ensuing March the Signory was filled with Piagnoni.

Accordingly, on Christmas Day, Savonarola celebrated the Mass in San Marco. In the Carnival another pyre of vanities was burnt; and on invitation by the Signory to resume his preaching, the friar mounted the pulpit of the Duomo with Consecrated Host in hand, called on God to strike him dead if he deserved excommunication, and declared that if the instrument by which God ruled the world withdrew himself from God, he was but broken iron, and need not be obeyed.

But Savonarola had at last miscalculated his strength. Religious enthusiasm is avowedly subject to relapses, and such a relapse now came on Florence.Final reaction against Savonarola. The extravagances of his followers, and his own, had swelled the number of his enemies. Many originally well disposed towards him were shocked at his open defiance of the Pope, and at his daring to administer the sacrament when excommunicated. The Franciscan order, always jealous of the Dominicans, now redoubled their attacks, led by Savonarola’s old rival Fra Mariano de Genazzano. Even the majority of the Dominicans outside San Marco declared against him. Of this reaction his enemies were quick enough to take advantage. Accordingly the Signory of March, 1498, only counted three of his adherents among its members. Still many of the Dieci, who having been elected for six months did not leave office, were in his favour. When therefore Alexander threatened the city with an interdict, unless Savonarola ceased preaching and came to Rome for absolution, the Government adopted a middle course; they persuaded the friar to cease preaching, yet would not force him to leave for Rome.

It is doubtful whether in any case Alexander would now have stayed his hand, for Savonarola had begun to speak of a General Council, and it was known that Charles VIII. was likely to support the cry, while the opponents of Savonarola, more especially the Franciscans of Santa Croce, were open-mouthed for his destruction. In any case the fatal suggestion of the ordeal by fire precipitated the crisis. This, whether first suggested by the Franciscans or no, wasThe ordeal by fire. eagerly taken up by them. ‘I believe I shall be burned,’ said the Franciscan, Francesco da Puglia, ‘but I am ready to die to free this people. If Savonarola does not burn, you may hold him to be a true prophet.’

Savonarola himself declined to thus tempt God, but Fra Domenico da Pescia, his most faithful follower, declared his willingness to stand his champion. Savonarola could scarcely refuse; the Signory after much debate consented; and on April 7, an eager crowd assembled on the Piazza to witness the ordeal. It may be questioned whether either party expected that the ordeal would really be essayed; in any case it was the Franciscans who raised objections. Declaring that they feared magic on Savonarola’s part, they first demanded that his champion should lay aside his chasuble and his vestments; they then objected to his bearing the crucifix, and finally insisted that he should not carry the Host into the fire. Here at last Savonarola refused compliance. Meanwhile the day wore on. It began to rain, and finally the Signory postponed the trial. The mob was now mad with disappointment, and next day the Compagnacci seized the opportunity to attack San Marco (April 8). Francesco Valori, the firmest supporter of Savonarola, who had often held office as Gonfalonier, was slain among others. The brethren, however, stood firm at San Marco until the Signory intervened and arrested Savonarola and his two chief supporters, Fra Domenico and Fra Silvestro.

Alexander now demanded that the friar should be handed over to him for trial. After much negotiation it was agreed that the Pope should send two commissaries to judge of the spiritual offences, while the Florentine commissioners should decide on the offences against the city. At the same time, Alexander granted to Florence a tax of three-tenths on ecclesiastical revenues. ‘Three times ten makes thirty,’ said a Piagnone; ‘they have sold our master, as Christ was sold, for thirty pieces of silver.’ Meanwhile Savonarola had been put to the torture, and was said to have confessed that he was no true prophet. But it is acknowledged that confessions extorted under torture are not worthy of the slightest credit; there is good reason, moreover, to believe that his depositions were falsified. His enemies were determined on his ruin.Execution of the Friar. May 23, 1498. All that was necessary to secure their final triumph was that the elections of May should return a Signory hostile to the friar. This was attained by excluding 200 Piagnoni from the Great Council. A Signory of Arrabiati was thus secured. Savonarola and his two followers, found guilty of heresy by the papal commissaries, and of treason to the State by his fellow-citizens, went to their death with all the constancy of martyrs, May 23, 1498.

Contemporaries were much divided in their opinions on the merits of Savonarola, and the contest rages still. ‘The thing I shall be most anxious to know when I get into Heaven,’ said a later Pope, ‘is whether Savonarola was a righteous man or no.’ Those who denounce him as a hypocrite, pretending to believe in divine guidance, and in the gift of prophecy to attain his ends, are surely ignorant of the subtle influences under which religious leaders have ever acted; men who carry with them into life a profound conviction of the divine ruling of the world. Those who lightly dismiss him as a fanatic, have never felt the burning shame of sin which consumes the reformer’s soul. That he was led to think that God had intrusted him with a mission and had used him as the trumpet of His warnings we may well believe; that he was betrayed into some extravagances will only convict him of ordinary human frailty.

As has been stated above, his real mistake lay in trespassing on the sphere of politics. Had he confined himself to the work of a moral reformer, he perhaps would not have risen so high; yet he would have escaped from many contradictions, and never have fallen so low. The office of the preacher and that of the statesman are not easily reconciled. When once he had associated himself with the fortunes of a political party, nothing but complete supremacy could save him from disaster. For the rest, the work of Savonarola must not be confused with the later Reformation. He had no idea of breaking from the Church, or of disputing her doctrines. His mind was set in a mediæval mould. He belongs to the long list of those great reformers who, like St. Francis of Assisi, strove to bring the life of man into closer harmony with Christian teaching as then understood, but did not dispute the accepted interpretation of that teaching. He stands forth as the opponent of that godless pagan spirit which marred the movement of the Renaissance, to rebuke the moral turpitude of his country, which was surely working her ruin.

§ 3. Louis XII. The War of Milan and Naples.

The accession of Louis XII. was popular. He had in his earlier years led the opposition against Anne of Beaujeu, and for that had suffered imprisonment, but of late heInternal policy of Louis XII. had been the loyal supporter of King Charles. Careless and fond of pleasure as a young man, he had, while retaining his generous and chivalrous spirit, now become more serious. Declaring at his accession that ‘the King did not remember the wrongs done to him as Duke,’ he showed favour to Anne of Beaujeu and her husband, whom he had once so bitterly resisted. On the marriage of their only child, Susanna, with the young Charles, Count of Montpensier, he annulled the decree of Louis XI. which had declared that, in the default of male issue, the dominion of Bourbon should fall to the crown. By this act of generosity, he postponed the incorporation of the last great noble domain in France.

The reign was inaugurated by several useful measures. The ‘taille’11 was reduced; the sale of judicial offices forbidden; an attempt was made to check the venality of the magistrates. Provence and Normandy were given local Parlements or courts of justice, which might serve as a counterbalance to the Parlement of Paris, while the extravagant privileges of the University of Paris in the matter of jurisdiction were curtailed. Political interest may by some be held to justify Louis’ divorce from his first wife Jeanne, daughter of Louis XI., and his marriage with Anne of Brittany, widow of Charles VIII.; for Jeanne was childless, and Brittany threatened to break away again from France. But, in the negotiations with the Pope concerning the divorce, the King acted meanly, and the stipulation insisted on by Anne of Brittany, that her duchy should not be united to the crown of France, might have led to further trouble, had not Francis of Angoulême, subsequently King Francis I., married Claude, the issue of the marriage. In a word the home policy of the King might justify his title of ‘Father of his People,’ had not his ambition led himLouis determines to attack Milan. to follow in the steps of Charles and seek for conquests in Italy. If his chivalrous spirit demanded war, the renewed attempt of Maximilian to regain Burgundy and the lands on the west of Flanders, which he still claimed as the heritage of his son, the Archduke Philip, would have fully justified Louis in taking the offensive, and adding Franche-Comté to his dominions. But his eyes, like those of Charles, were dazzled with the fair skies and plains of Italy, and Italy alone would satisfy French ambitions. Milan, however, and not Naples, was the first object of Louis’ attack.

The invasion of Charles VIII. should have taught the Italians the necessity of union. But this was not to be. Even in the League of Venice, the aims of Italian statesmen had been purely selfish, and the common danger once removed, their old rivalries returned and broke up the coalition.

Savonarola had been ‘sacrificed by the Pope, because Florence would not join the League’—yet no sooner was he gone than Alexander VI. deserted it himself. The chief aim of Alexander’s pontificate was to strengthen the temporal dominion of the Papacy. Following in the steps of Sixtus IV., he hoped to gain his end through his family. His eldest son, the Duke of Gandia, was first chosen as his instrument.Alexander and Venice desert the League of Venice and ally themselves with France. He designed to make him Lord of the Patrimony of St. Peter and crush the Orsini, who had given him a pretext by supporting the cause of Charles VIII. But the Orsini had proved too strong. The attempt had failed, and the mysterious murder of the duke in June 1497, seemed for the moment to ruin his hopes. The Pope, however, was not a man easily dismayed. He shortly resumed his scheme, and now looked to his third son, the notorious Cæsar Borgia. Cæsar, unfortunately, was both deacon and cardinal; but in August 1498, his father released him from his ecclesiastical vows ‘for the good of his soul.’ Having thus removed this primary obstacle, the Pope at first designed to marry him to Carlotta, the daughter of Federigo of Naples, whereby Cæsar might some day gain a claim to the throne of that kingdom. Baulked in this hope by the refusal of Federigo, Alexander turned to France. In return for the papal bull sanctioning the divorce of his first wife Jeanne, and a cardinal’s hat for George of Amboise, his chief adviser, Louis XII. invested Cæsar with the counties of Valentinois and Diois, and the title of duke. Subsequently he bestowed upon him the hand of his niece, the beautiful Charlotte d’Albret (May 1499), and promised to assist him in his designs on the Romagna. Thus Alexander was detached from the League.

The relations between Venice and Ludovico had never been cordial. At the battle of Fornovo, the duke had played it false, and ordered his troops not to press the French too closely. Shortly after this the Pisan War led to further disagreement. Angry at the refusal of Florence to join the League of Venice, Ludovico and Venice had both supported Pisa in her struggle for independence. But the lust of conquest soon began to tempt them, and, as both could not hold Pisa, a quarrel was inevitable. At first Ludovico called upon the Emperor Maximilian to secure that city, hoping eventually to wrest it from his hands; but the expedition had failed (October 1496), and Ludovico, rather than see the city fall under Venetian control, deserted the Pisan cause, and aided the Florentines with men and money (May 1498). Venice accordingly turned a ready ear to Louis’ offers, and in the Treaty of Blois (February 1499), agreed to support his claim to the Duchy of Milan with arms: Louis, on his side, promising her Cremona and the Ghiara d’Adda, a small district on the left bank of that river, as her share of the Milanese spoil.

Thus Louis had succeeded in breaking up the League, and Ludovico was left without an available ally. Ferdinand of SpainDesperate position of Ludovico. was already thinking of seizing Naples for himself, and had no mind to interfere in Lombardy; Federigo of Naples was trembling for his throne, and was in no position to lend him aid; while Maximilian, at this time engaged in a war with the Swiss, and at variance with his Diet on questions concerning the Imperial Constitution, could not render any assistance. In his despair Ludovico stirred up the Turks, and Bajazet II. sent an army to ravage the Venetian territories in Friuli, an act which did not materially assist him, and still further irritated his enemies.

In August 1499, the French army crossed the Alps commanded by three redoubtable leaders: the Lombard Trivulzio,The French enter Italy. August 1499. who had deserted the cause of Alfonso of Naples and adopted France as his country, a man of whom Ludovico said, ‘a halter awaits him as soon as caught’; Stuart d’Aubigny, who had already earned a reputation in the war of Naples; and Louis de Luxembourg, Count of Ligny, the patron of the Chevalier Bayard, whose chivalrous exploits in the coming campaigns remind us that the Middle Age had not yet departed. The Duke of Savoy gave them free passage through Piedmont. At Asti they were joined by a contingent of 5000 Swiss, sent by the Cantons, who had made a treaty with Louis. The advance on Milan met with scant resistance. The village of Annona, fortified by Ludovico, indeed held out, but was taken by assault on the second day, and the garrison put to the sword. Terrified by their fate, and beguiled by the promises and the bribes of Trivulzio, castles and cities opened their gates. Alessandria, evacuated by the Milanese army under Galeazzo di San Severino, who was probably bribed by the French, made submission, but was cruelly pillaged, and the French crossed the Po.

Meanwhile the Venetian army from the east occupied Caravaggio, and advanced to Lodi. Ludovico now saw that his cause was lost. Warned by a riot in MilanThe Venetians advance on Lodi. that the capital could not be trusted, he despatched his two sons and his treasure to Germany, threw provisions into the castle of Milan, and fled to seek assistance of Maximilian at Innsbruck (September 2). Ludovico gone, the citizens of Milan hastened to offer the keys of the city to the French.Ludovico flies to Innsbruck. The French and Venetians occupy the Milanese. Sept. 1499. On September 14, the citadel itself surrendered; Genoa followed suit, and thus within a month, the French and Venetians found themselves masters of the Milanese, without having had to fight a single important battle. But they were not to hold their conquest without another struggle. The rapidity of the French conquest, like that of Naples by Charles VIII., illustrates the weakness of Italy. The treachery and cowardice of the soldiery was the result of the evil traditions of Italian condottier warfare. The army once gone, the citizens could scarcely have resisted if they would, and they would not if they could. Devoid of all sense of patriotism or loyalty, they feared the vengeance of the French, and listened easily to their promises of milder government, and lighter taxation. Reaction against the French. These indeed Louis attempted to fulfil, but extravagant expectations had been raised, and the choice of Trivulzio as Governor of Milan was an unfortunate one. A Lombard himself, he became a party man; his severity alienated the lower classes, while the pride and insolence of the French soon lost them the affection of their new subjects.

A few months sufficed to disillusionise the Italians, and when, in February 1500, Ludovico returned with an army he had collected in the North,Ludovico returns. Feb. 1500. the French were forced to evacuate Milan and surrender their conquests as quickly as they had gained them. All seemed lost, when in April the French army, reinforced from France, again moved forward to relieve the citadel of Novara,The French evacuate Milan, but take Ludovico prisoner at Novara, April 5, and re-occupy the city. which, with the castle of Milan, alone held out. The motley character of the army of Ludovico, composed as it was of mercenaries from Franche-Comté and Switzerland, Albania and Lombardy, would in any case have rendered victory doubtful, but the chances of battle were never tried owing to the treachery of the Germans and the Swiss. The latter pleaded as an excuse that they could not fight against their countrymen who were serving the French with leave of the Confederation. The only pretext the Germans could find was arrears of pay. Allowed by the French to retire, these honourable companions in arms did not even insist on the same terms being granted to their Milanese comrades, or to the Duke. When therefore the Milanese troops attempted to retreat, they were cut down by the French. The Duke was discovered among the Swiss in the disguise of a friar, and on April 17, the French re-entered the capital. The rich Duchy of Milan was now theirs, with the exception of the strip of country to the east of the Adda, which fell to the Venetians, and the district round Bellinzona, which was seized by the Swiss in the pay of Louis, and which they retain to this day.

The Sforza family suffered cruelly for Ludovico’s fatal act in first calling the French into Italy and for his subsequent breach of faith. The Duke, who had vaunted himselfFortunes of the Sforza family. on his cleverness, ended his days in the dungeons of Loches in Touraine (1508). His brother, the Cardinal Ascanio, and Francesco, son of the unfortunate Gian Galeazzo, also fell into French hands. Ascanio was released in 1503, but died in 1505. Francesco was forced to become a monk and died in 1511, and the only important representatives of the male line of the Sforza who remained were the two sons of Ludovico, Maximilian and Francesco Maria, who were hereafter for a period to regain the duchy.12

The collapse of the power of Ludovico is a signal illustration of the insufficiency and untrustworthiness of mercenary troops. Caring nothing for the cause they had momentarily espoused, they were ever open to bribes, or ready to desert when desertion served their turn.

For the rest, the policy of Venice in thus calling the French for the second time into Italy, was as short-sighted as it was blameworthy. The Venetians pleaded as a pretextShort-sighted policy of Venice. their fears of the ambitious schemer Ludovico, yet he was never likely to be so formidable as the French, and, as Machiavelli well observes, ‘in their desire to win two districts in Lombardy they helped Louis to become master of two-thirds of Italy.’

Louis once master of Milan hurried on his preparations against Naples. The only opponent who was likely to be formidable was Ferdinand the Catholic.Treaty of Granada between Louis and Ferdinand. Nov. 11, 1500. He had helped to restore the Aragonese dynasty after the retreat of Charles, and might well put in his claim, if the illegitimate branch of his house were to be excluded. ‘But how,’ said his envoy, ‘if you were to come to some agreement with us respecting Naples as you did with Venice about Milan?’ The suggestion was welcomed by Louis, and in November 1500, the secret Treaty of Granada was signed. An excuse for that shameless compact was found in the alliance which Federigo in his distress had made with the Turk. After deploring the discords of Christian princes, which weakened them before the Turk, the preamble asserts that ‘no other princes, save the Kings of France and Aragon, have any title to the crown of Naples, and as King Federigo has excited the Turk to the peril of Christendom, the two powers, in order to rescue it from this danger and to maintain the peace, agree to compromise their respective claims, and divide the kingdom of Naples itself.’ The northern provinces, consisting of the Abruzzi and the land of Lavoro, with the title of king, were to go to Louis; the Duchy of Calabria and Apulia in the south as a dukedom to Ferdinand. That there was danger to be apprehended from the Turks was true enough; not only had they ravaged Friuli in the autumn of 1499, they had also defeated the Venetian fleet off Sapienza, and taken Modon and Navarino in the Morea. That the cry of a crusade was not a mere pretext is proved by the treaties made by Louis in the spring of 1500 with Ladislas, King of Bohemia and Hungary, and with the King of Poland; by the fleet despatched by Ferdinand to aid the Venetians in the siege of St. George in Cephalonia (September 1500), and by the French attack on Mitylene in 1501. It is even possible, that the conquest of Italy from the north alone saved that country from falling before the Turk, but the advance of the Sultan might have been more successfully opposed by a joint European coalition, and, as events showed, lust of conquest was the primary motive of the allies.

The treaty of Granada was ‘the first open assertion in European politics of the principles of dynastic aggrandisement; the first of those partition treaties by which peoples were handed over from one Government to another as appendages to family estates.’ Not only was the treaty of Granada a crime, it was also a fatal blunder on the part of Louis. ‘The French,’ says Machiavelli, ‘have little skill in matters of State, for whereas before, Louis was sole umpire in Italy, he now entertained a partner, and whereas Louis might have made the king of Naples his pensioner, he turned him out and put the Spaniard in his place, who turned out Louis himself.’ The compact was at first kept secret, and Federigo still hoped for assistance from Ferdinand. In June 1501, however, when the French army under D’Aubigny entered Rome on its southward march, Pope Alexander publicly ratified the treaty, declared Federigo deposed as a traitor to Christendom, and invested Louis and Ferdinand with his dominions.

Federigo, despairing of his cause, did not dare to meet the French in the field. Capua, which alone stood out, was taken by assault on July 23, and handedFederigo abdicates and retires to France. August 1501. over to a brutal soldiery who massacred the men and outraged the women. To save his country from further misery, the unfortunate King capitulated, and, accepting the terms of Louis, retired to France, to live till 1504 a pensioner, with the title of Duke of Anjou.

The southern part of the kingdom made a somewhat more vigorous resistance to the Spaniards. They would have preferred, they said, the French as masters. But on the fall of Taranto in March 1502, Ferrante, the young Duke of Calabria, surrendered, and, in violation of a promise that he might retire whither he would, was sent to Spain to die in 1550.13 Thus in less than two years the two families, whose quarrels had first invited the foreigner into Italy, had been driven from their country.

Naples and Milan conquered, Western Europe found itself dominated by two great leagues, that of Louis XII.,Quarrel between Louis and Ferdinand. closely allied with the Pope and some of the German princes, and that of the Austro-Spanish houses. The latter was a family league cemented by the marriage of the Archduke Philip, son of the Emperor Maximilian, with Joanna, eldest daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella,14 and included England and Portugal. At this moment there seemed a prospect of these two leagues coalescing. In 1501, it had been agreed that Charles, the young son of the Archduke Philip, should marry the Princess Claude, daughter of Louis XII. The children were yet young, but the joint conquest of Naples by the Spanish and the French seemed a guarantee of their future friendship, and that the marriage would eventually take place. Had this compact stood, Europe would have been united as it had never been before, and, if there was some danger that this powerful league would have destroyed the political balance, and ridden rough-shod over the smaller princes, at least a crusade to check the advance of the Turks, or even to drive them from Europe, might have been possible. The dream, however, was soon to be dispelled by the quarrel of Louis and Ferdinand over their spoil in Naples. In the original treaty of partition no definite mention had been made of the Basilicata,15 the Capitanata, and the two districts of the Principati. These furnished an easy cause of dispute, which was further complicated by the claim to the tolls paid on the sheep-flocks as they passed from their summer pasture in the Abruzzi to their winter quarters in the Capitanata. The quarrel might possibly have been compromised had it not been fomented by the internal factions of the country. The old partisans of Anjou were strongest in Apulia, while the Spaniards found many adherents in districts held by the French.

These dissensions soon led to an open rupture, and in July 1502, the war began. The ensuing struggle is famous in the history of chivalry, which gleamed forth for the last time in these Italian wars, and is well depicted in the picturesque pages of the life of Bayard. On the French side,The War of Naples. July 1502. we find Imbercourt, ‘to whom, wherever there was a battle to fight, the heat of the Italian noontide seemed like the cool of morning’; the aged La Palice, who in the mêlée forgot his age; and Bayard himself, the soul of knightly courtesy and valour. On the side of Spain, stood Diego de Paredes, whose feats of extravagant daring furnish the theme for many a Spanish romance; and Pedro de Paz, a squinting dwarf, who scarce could be seen above the head of his charger, yet had the heart of a lion; while Gonzalvo de Cordova, the ‘Great Captain’ himself, added to his masterly qualities as a general the chivalrous courtesy and manners of a knight-errant. These, and many others, fought, not so much for victory, as for honour. Not content with the opportunities offered by the regular military operations for the display of their prowess, they challenged each other to jousts and tourneys, which, though fought à l’outrance, were conducted with all the punctiliousness, and all the ceremony of the lists. As we read the history of their combats, we fancy that we are present at a tournament of the Middle Ages—the contest, one for knightly prestige, the prize, some guerdon awarded by lady’s hand.16 But the real issue was not decided by these feats of personal valour. On the declaration of hostilities, the French had the advantage in numbers and in the quality of their troops, as well as the command of the sea.

In December 1502, the victory of D’Aubigny at Terranova, over a force which had just landed from Spain, gave him the whole of Calabria. Gonzalvo de Cordova, the Spanish commander-in-chief, unable to keep the field, assumed the defensive attitude, and threw his troops into the fortified towns of Apulia.D’Aubigny’s victory at Terranova, Dec. 15, 1502. Of these, Barletta was the most important. Here the Spanish general entrenched himself, and patiently waited for reinforcements from Sicily and Spain; but Ferdinand was remiss in sending aid; while a French fleet, holding the sea, preventedSiege of Barletta. troops or supplies being shipped from Sicily. The distress was so severe that Gonzalvo de Cordova had great difficulty in preventing a surrender, and had the French general, the Duc de Nemours, shown more energy, the Spaniards might have been driven from the country.

In April 1503 there seemed a chance of peace. The Archduke Philip, as he passed through France, visited Louis XII. at Lyons, and there made a treaty by which it was agreedTreaty of Lyons. April 5, 1503. that Naples should eventually go to the young Charles and the Princess Claude, who, in 1501, had been betrothed. Until the children should be old enough to marry, the French portion of the kingdom was to be administered by a nominee of Louis, the Spanish, by the Archduke Philip, or some deputy appointed by Ferdinand. Whether Ferdinand had allowed these negotiations to be entered into merely to gain time, as the French declare, or whether, as seems more probable, Philip, who was not on good terms with his father-in-law, had exceeded his instructions, the results to France were fatal.

The treaty signed, Louis countermanded the embarkation of reinforcements from Genoa, and ordered a suspension of hostilities in Naples. Meanwhile the position of the SpaniardsHostilities renewed. had materially improved. In February, their general, taking advantage of the foolish movement of the Duc de Nemours to recover Castellaneta, which had just revolted to Spain, made a sortie from Barletta, captured Ruvo, and took La Palice prisoner. In March, the defeat of the French fleet gave the command of the sea to Spain.

Now strengthened by reinforcements, Gonzalvo de Cordova openly repudiated the treaty of Lyons, and at last assumed the offensive. So overwhelming was the superiority of the Spaniards that two battles fought within eight days of each other sufficed to make them masters of the country.

The defeat of D’Aubigny at Seminara by the Spanish General, Fernando de Andrada, on April 20, and his surrender which shortly followed, gave them Calabria. On the 27th, the Great Captain at last leaving Barletta, where he had lain entrenched so long, sought the French at Cerignola (April 28). Here taking up a strong position, with his front protected by a ditch, which he filled with pointed stakes and strengthened with a rampart, he awaited the onslaught of the French.French defeated at Seminara, April 20, 1503; and Cerignola, April 28. The Duc de Nemours, true to that cautious strategy which had hitherto prevented him from taking full advantage of his superior strength, was for postponing the attack. Stung, however, by the reproaches flung at him by Ives d’Allègre, one of his officers, he rashly ordered an advance as evening was already closing in. ‘Now,’ said he, ‘perhaps those who vaunt the loudest will be found to trust more to their spurs than to their swords.’ The event justified the taunt. In vain, the French flung themselves with desperate valour on the ditch and ramparts. They were exposed to the concentrated fire of the enemy and beaten back. The Duc de Nemours himself, and Chandieu, the leader of the Swiss contingent, were slain. The explosion of a Spanish powder magazine caused more confusion to the French than to the foe, and Gonzalvo de Cordova, seizing the moment, ordered a general advance. The French, wearied by their long struggle, broke and fled.

Henceforth, the advance of the Spaniards was unchecked. The French proved the truth of the Italian saying that, ‘while in their attacks they were more than men,The French driven from Naples. they were less than women in their retreats.’ In one day, thirty castles surrendered to the ‘Great Captain.’ On the 13th of May, Naples opened its gates, and Gaëta, Venosa, and Santa Severina remained the only important places in French hands.

Louis XII. made desperate attempts to retrieve his disaster. Three large armies were raised: one to penetrate into Spain by the way of Fontarabia; the second to invade Roussillon and seize Salces on the frontier; the third to re-enter Italy. Two fleets were also equipped, one in Genoa, the other in Marseilles;Renewed attempts of Louis XII. the first to support the invasion of Naples, the other to co-operate with the attack on Roussillon by threatening the coast of Catalonia. But fortune did not smile upon his efforts. The invasion of Spain was delayed by the supineness or the treachery of the commander, Alan d’Albret.17 The fleet intended for Catalonia was driven back by heavy weather. The attack on Roussillon was equally unfortunate. The fortress of Salces, strengthened by Pedro Navarra, the best engineer of his day, was too strong to be taken by assault; and in October, Ferdinand, marching to its relief with a superior force, drove the French over the frontier. Disheartened by these reverses Louis XII. consented to a truce of five months (15th November), which was subsequently extended. Curiously enough, the unfortunate Federigo of Naples was called upon to act as peacemaker between the two robbers who were still quarrelling over the kingdom they had dispoiled him of. For Naples was not included in the truce, and thither the third French army had marched in July 1503, under the leadership of La Trémouille.

But the death of Pope Alexander, on August 18, caused delay. The papal tiara had long been the aim of Cardinal d’Amboise,Death of Alexander VI., Aug. 18, 1503, and election of Pius III. an ambition favoured by Louis XII. Under the idea that the presence of the army might influence the election, it was ordered to halt within a few miles of Rome. The cardinals were indignant at this attempt to overawe them, and the movement of a Spanish force from the south, as well as the presence of Cæsar Borgia with his troops in the Castle of St. Angelo, made them fear lest the matter might lead to a conflict. D’Amboise therefore allowed the army to depart. Shortly after, despairing of success, he supported the election of Cardinal Piccolomini who, on September 22, became Pope Pius III. This delay of a month was fatal to the French cause. The expedition was postponed to the autumn and winter, which proved to be exceptionally wet and cold. La Trémouille fell ill and resigned his command to the Marquis of Mantua, an inferior general, and time was given to Gonzalvo de Cordova to obtain reinforcements.

Even as it was, however, the French were superior in numbers, and the ‘Great Captain’ found it necessary to abandon the siege of Gaëta, which still held out for the French,Battle of the Garigliano, Dec. 28, 1503. and to drop back on the river Garigliano. The French, after a desperate conflict, succeeded in throwing a bridge over the river (November 6), but failed in dislodging the Spaniards from their position about a mile to the rear, which had, as usual, been strengthened by Don Gonzalvo. Finally, throwing up an earthwork to protect the bridge, they dropped back to their old position. Seven weeks of inaction followed, broken only by partial skirmishes and personal combats.

Meanwhile the weather, which had been wet, grew worse. From this, owing to the lowness and swampiness of their position, the Spaniards suffered much. Yet Gonzalvo de Cordova succeeded in imparting to his men his unconquerable determination to hold the position at any cost. Urged to retreat he answered, ‘I would not fall back a step to gain a hundred years of life.’ The effect on the French was far more disastrous. In spite of their being on higher, and therefore drier ground, the troops and the horses did not endure the wet and cold so well. The country and even the roads became so sodden, that the movements of the cavalry, and still more those of the artillery, the two forces in which the French excelled, were seriously impeded.

Under such depressing circumstances, insubordination, the chief evil of the French armies of those days, began to show itself, and finally vented itself against the Marquis of Mantua, their general. Pleading ill-health he resigned, to be succeeded by the Marquis of Saluzzo. This led to the desertion of some Italian troops, insulted at the treatment of their countryman. Thus, time was fighting for the Spaniards; and when at last, recruited by the Orsini, whom he had cleverly succeeded in conciliating, he felt strong enough to assume the offensive, he met with but faint resistance. On the night of December 28, the troops who guarded the river were overwhelmed and the passage of the river effected. The French, surprised in their scattered cantonments by the suddenness of the attack, were unable to concentrate, and forced to retreat. In spite of numerous deeds of valour, the retreat soon became a rout, and the remnants of the army fell back in confusion on Gaëta. Here after one more struggle they capitulated (January 1, 1504),The French finally lose Naples, 1504. on the condition that they should retire unmolested, and that all prisoners in Spanish hands should be released. The few remaining strongholds speedily surrendered, and the Neapolitan kingdom was won for Ferdinand.

The victory of the Spaniards was due to their possession of Sicily, whence they could draw support, and to the failure of the French to retain the command of the sea, so that reinforcements could come from Spain; to the exceptional inclemency of the winter, which seems to have been more severely felt by the French than the Spaniards; in great measure to the unpopularity of the French, the result of their licence and overbearing conduct; largely to the quarrels of the French generals; but, above all, to their inferiority when matched against the ‘Great Captain.’ Cautious, where caution was necessary, he refused to be drawn from his position till the right moment came; but, when he saw his opportunity, struck with decision and rapidity. Never despairing under the most gloomy circumstances, he was able to communicate his fortitude, and impart his cheerfulness to his soldiery. Gracious and conciliatory, he earned the love of his army, yet knew how to be severe when discipline was threatened. A master of diplomacy, as well as of war, he succeeded, as no other foreign general had, in winning over enemies, and in settling the factions of that most factious country, Italy. Courteous in manner, and splendid in his style of life, he won the hearts of the giddy Neapolitans. Nor was Gonzalvo de Cordova above learning from his foe. To the short sword and buckler, the national weapons of the Spaniards, so effective for attack at close quarters, he added the long German spear, whereby their power of defence was materially increased. Indeed, he may be said to have made the Spanish infantry, which, re-armed by him and reduced to discipline, became for a time the most formidable force in Europe.

§ 4. Alexander VI. and Cæsar Borgia.

While the struggle between the French and Spaniards was being decided in Naples, events of importance to Italy and Europe were happening in the centre of the Peninsula.Alexander VI. and the Romagna. Need of French help in his designs on the Romagna had been the motive of Alexander’s alliance with Louis XII. at the date of the Milanese expedition. To the realisation of these schemes he and his son now eagerly turned.

The Romagna, once the old Exarchate of Ravenna, a district of somewhat indeterminate limits, lay on the eastern slopes of the Apennines, stretching to the Adriatic on the east, while to the north it was bounded by the territories of Venice, to the south by the march of Ancona. This country is said to have been originally granted to the Pope by Constantine. The gift was confirmed by Charles the Great, and all claims to it were definitely surrendered by Rudolph of Hapsburg in the thirteenth century. The Emperor, however, had granted but an empty title. The country was in the hands of numerous families who acknowledged indeed the nominal supremacy of Rome, but were practically independent.18

The possession of these petty states had been long coveted by Milan, Florence, and Venice. Venice indeed had already encroached on the territory of Ferrara (1484), and under the new aspect of affairs caused by the French invasion, the absorption of many of them by one or other of these powers seemed inevitable. This Alexander hoped to obviate by reasserting the papal supremacy, which had never been formally denied, and by reducing the district to obedience.

The pretext for the overthrow of these principalities was that they had not paid the yearly dues which they owed the Pope as his vicars, and no sooner had the French entered Italy in the autumn of 1499, than Cæsar proceeded to execute the papal decree of confiscation.

Louis XII., in pursuance of his promise, sent 300 lances under the command of Ives d’Allègre, while 4000 Swiss infantry were hired as mercenaries.The conquests of Cæsar in the Romagna. Nov. 1499–April 1501. With these forces Cæsar marched against Imola and Forli (Nov. 9). The two cities did not make any resistance, but the castles held out longer, especially that of Forli, which was defended by the brave but masculine Caterina Sforza, and did not surrender till January, 1500.

The return of Ludovico to Milan in February (cf. p. 38) necessitated the recall of the French contingent, and Cæsar was forced to postpone further hostilities until the ensuing September. Then, reinforced once more by French assistance, and holding the title of Gonfalonier of the Church, just bestowed upon him by his father, Cæsar speedily reduced Pesaro and Rimini. Faenza, happy under the mild rule of the young Astorre Manfredi, offered stout resistance, and did not fall till April, 1501. In violation of the terms of capitulation the unfortunate Astorre was sent to Rome, and in the following June was found drowned in the Tiber. By whose order the deed was done, no one knew, but all men not unnaturally suspected the hand of the Borgias.

Fortune now seemed to favour Cæsar. Created Duke of Romagna by Alexander, he had been enrolled a member of the Venetian nobility by that proud republic, whichCæsar created Duke of Romagna, April 1501. Admitted a member of the Venetian oligarchy. hoped thus to gain papal aid against the Turk. He had in his pay the best of the Italian condottiers, and the remaining cities of the Romagna were trembling. Dazzled by his rapid successes, his views expanded. He now aspired not only to complete his conquest of the Romagna, but to interfere in the affairs of Florence, if not eventually to make himself master of all Tuscany. For a time, however, his ambition was checked. Bologna and Florence were both under French protection, and Louis ordered him to stay his hand.Louis XII. forbids Cæsar to attack Bologna and Florence. The Pope became alarmed, and Cæsar was forced to content himself with a sum of money paid by Florence, and an agreement to take him into her service for three years. Leaving therefore his army to take Piombino, which surrendered in September, he joined the French expedition against Naples (July). In September he returned to find his sister Lucrezia betrothed to Alfonso, the son of Ercole of Este.