I PURSUED my business of artilleryman, and every day performed some
extraordinary feat, whereby the credit and the favour I acquired with
the Pope was something indescribable. There never passed a day but what
I killed one or another of our enemies in the besieging army. On one
occasion the Pope was walking round the circular keep, [1] when he
observed a Spanish Colonel in the Prati; he recognised the man by
certain indications, seeing that this officer had formerly been in his
service; and while he fixed his eyes on him, he kept talking about him.
I, above by the Angel, knew nothing of all this, but spied a fellow down
there, busying himself about the trenches with a javelin in his hand; he
was dressed entirely in rose-colour; and so, studying the worst that I
could do against him, I selected a gerfalcon which I had at hand; it is
a piece of ordnance larger and longer than a swivel, and about the size
of a demiculverin. This I emptied, and loaded it again with a good
charge of fine powder mixed with the coarser sort; then I aimed it
exactly at the man in red, elevating prodigiously, because a piece of
that calibre could hardly be expected to carry true at such a distance.
I fired, and hit my man exactly in the middle. He had trussed his sword
in front, [2] for swagger, after a way those Spaniards have; and my
ball, when it struck him, broke upon the blade, and one could see the
fellow cut in two fair halves. The Pope, who was expecting nothing of
this kind, derived great pleasure and amazement from the sight, both
because it seemed to him impossible that one should aim and hit the mark
at such a distance, and also because the man was cut in two, and he
could not comprehend how this should happen. He sent for me, and asked
about it. I explained all the devices I had used in firing; but told him
that why the man was cut in halves, neither he nor I could know. Upon my
bended knees I then besought him to give me the pardon of his blessing
for that homicide; and for all the others I had committed in the castle
in the service of the Church. Thereat the Pope, raising his hand, and
making a large open sign of the cross upon my face, told me that he
blessed me, and that he gave me pardon for all murders I had ever
perpetrated, or should ever perpetrate, in the service of the Apostolic
Church. When I felt him, I went aloft, and never stayed from firing to
the utmost of my power; and few were the shots of mine that missed their
mark. My drawing, and my fine studies in my craft, and my charming art
of music, all were swallowed up in the din of that artillery; and if I
were to relate in detail all the splendid things I did in that infernal
work of cruelty, I should make the world stand by and wonder. But, not
to be too prolix, I will pass them over. Only I must tell a few of the
most remarkable, which are, as it were, forced in upon me.
To begin then: pondering day and night what I could render for my own
part in defence of Holy Church, and having noticed that the enemy
changed guard and marched past through the great gate of Santo Spirito,
which was within a reasonable range, I thereupon directed my attention
to that spot; but, having to shoot sideways, I could not do the damage
that I wished, although I killed a fair percentage every day. This
induced our adversaries, when they saw their passage covered by my guns,
to load the roof of a certain house one night with thirty gabions, which
obstructed the view I formerly enjoyed. Taking better thought than I had
done of the whole situation, I now turned all my five pieces of
artillery directly on the gabions, and waited till the evening hour,
when they changed guard. Our enemies, thinking they were safe, came on
at greater ease and in a closer body than usual; whereupon I set fire to
my blow-pipes, [3] Not merely did I dash to pieces the gabions which
stood in my way; but, what was better, by that one blast I slaughtered
more than thirty men. In consequence of this manœuvre, which I
repeated twice, the soldiers were thrown into such disorder, that being,
moreover, encumbered with the spoils of that great sack, and some of
them desirous of enjoying the fruits of their labour, they oftentimes
showed a mind to mutiny and take themselves away from Rome. However,
after coming to terms with their valiant captain, Gian di Urbino, [4]
they were ultimately compelled, at their excessive inconvenience, to
take another road when they changed guard. It cost them three miles of
march, whereas before they had but half a mile. Having achieved this
feat, I was entreated with prodigious favours by all the men of quality
who were invested in the castle. This incident was so important that I
thought it well to relate it, before finishing the history of things
outside my art, the which is the real object of my writing: forsooth, if
I wanted to ornament my biography with such matters, I should have far
too much to tell. There is only one more circumstance which, now that
the occasion offers, I propose to record.
Note 1. The Mastio or main body of Hadrian’s Mausoleum, which was
converted into a fortress during the Middle Ages.
Note 2. 'S’aveva messo la spada dinanzi.' Perhaps 'was bearing his sword
in front of him.'
Note 3. 'Soffioni,' the cannon being like tubes to blow a fire up.
Note 4. This captain was a Spaniard, who played a very considerable
figure in the war, distinguishing himself at the capture of Genoa and
the battle of Lodi in 1522, and afterwards acting as Lieutenant-General
to the Prince of Orange. He held Naples against Orazio Baglioni in 1528,
and died before Spello in 1529.