The European powers regarded the expedition of Charles the Eighth with

somewhat different feelings; most of them were not unwilling to see so

formidable a prince waste his resources in a remote and chimerical

expedition; Ferdinand, however, contemplated with more anxiety an event,

which might terminate in the subversion of the Neapolitan branch of his

house, and bring a powerful and active neighbor in contact with his own

dominions in Sicily. He lost no time in fortifying the faltering courage

of the pope by assurances of support. His ambassador, then resident at the

papal court, was Garcilasso de la Vega, father of the illustrious poet of

that name, and familiar to the reader by his exploits in the Granadine

war. This personage with rare political sagacity combined an energy of

purpose, which could not fail to infuse courage into the hearts of others.

He urged the pope to rely on his master, the king of Aragon, who, he

assured him, would devote his whole resources, if necessary, to the

protection of his person, honor, and estate. Alexander would gladly have

had this promise under the hand of Ferdinand; but the latter did not think

it expedient, considering his delicate relations with France, to put

himself so far in the power of the wily pontiff. [22]

In the mean time, Charles's preparations went forward with the languor and

vacillation resulting from divided councils and multiplied embarrassments.

"Nothing essential to the conduct of a war was at hand," says Comines. The

king was very young, weak in person, headstrong in will, surrounded by few

discreet counsellors, and wholly destitute of the requisite funds. [23]

His own impatience, however, was stimulated by that of the youthful

chivalry of his court, who burned for an opportunity of distinction; as

well as by the representations of the Neapolitan exiles, who hoped, under

his protection, to re-establish themselves in their own country. Several

of these, weary with the delay already experienced, made overtures to King

Ferdinand to undertake the enterprise on his own behalf, and to assert his

legitimate pretensions to the crown of Naples, which, they assured him, a

large party in the country was ready to sustain. The sagacious monarch,

however, knew how little reliance was to be placed on the reports of

exiles, whose imaginations readily exaggerated the amount of disaffection

in their own country. But, although the season had not yet arrived for

asserting his own paramount claims, he was determined to tolerate those of

no other potentate. [24]

Charles entertained so little suspicion of this, that, in the month of

June, he despatched an envoy to the Spanish court, requiring Ferdinand's

fulfilment of the treaty of Barcelona, by aiding him with men and money,

and by throwing open his ports in Sicily for the French navy. "This

gracious proposition," says the Aragonese historian, "he accompanied with

information of his proposed expedition against the Turks; stating

incidentally, as a thing of no consequence, his intention to take Naples

by the way." [25]

Ferdinand saw the time was arrived for coming to an explicit declaration

with the French court. He appointed a special mission, in order to do this

in the least offensive manner possible. The person selected for this

delicate task was Alonso de Silva, brother of the count of Cifuentes, and

_clavero_ of Calatrava, a cavalier possessed of the coolness and address

requisite for diplomatic success. [26]

The ambassador, on arriving at the French court, found it at Vienne in all

the bustle of preparation for immediate departure. After seeking in vain a

private audience from King Charles, he explained to him the purport of his

mission in the presence of his courtiers. He assured him of the

satisfaction which the king of Aragon had experienced, at receiving

intelligence of his projected expedition against the infidel. Nothing gave

his master so great contentment, as to see his brother monarchs employing

their arms, and expending their revenues, against the enemies of the

Cross; where even failure was greater gain than success in other wars. He

offered Ferdinand's assistance in the prosecution of such wars, even

though they should be directed against the Mahometans of Africa, over whom

the papal sanction had given Spain exclusive rights of conquest. He

besought the king not to employ the forces destined to so glorious a

purpose against any one of the princes of Europe, but to reflect how great

a scandal this must necessarily bring on the Christian cause; above all,

he cautioned him against forming any designs on Naples, since that kingdom

was a fief of the church, in whose favor an exception was expressly made

by the treaty of Barcelona, which recognized her alliance and protection

as paramount to every other obligation. Silva's discourse was responded to

by the president of the parliament of Paris in a formal Latin oration,

asserting generally Charles's right to Naples, and his resolution to

enforce it previously to his crusade against the infidel. As soon as it

was concluded, the king rose and abruptly quitted the apartment. [27]

Some days after, he interrogated the Spanish ambassador, whether his

master would not, in case of a war with Portugal, feel warranted by the

terms of the late treaty in requiring the co-operation of France, and on

what plea the latter power could pretend to withhold it. To the first of

these propositions the ambassador answered in the affirmative, if it were

a defensive war, but not, if an offensive one, of his own seeking; an

explanation by no means satisfactory to the French monarch. Indeed, he

seems not to have been at all prepared for this interpretation of the

compact. He had relied on this, as securing without any doubt the non-

interference of Ferdinand, if not his actual co-operation in his designs

against Naples. The clause touching the rights of the church was too

frequent in public treaties to excite any particular attention; and he was

astounded at the broad ground, which it was now made to cover, and which

defeated the sole object proposed by the cession of Roussillon. He could

not disguise his chagrin and indignation at what he deemed the perfidy of

the Spanish court. He refused all further intercourse with Silva, and even

stationed a sentinel at his gate, to prevent his communication with his

subjects; treating him as the envoy, not of an ally, but of an open enemy.

[28]

The unexpected and menacing attitude, however, assumed by Ferdinand,

failed to arrest the operations of the French monarch, who, having

completed his preparations, left Vienne in the month of August, 1494, and

crossed the Alps at the head of the most formidable host which had scaled

that mountain barrier since the irruption of the northern barbarians. [29]

It will be unnecessary to follow his movements in detail. It is sufficient

to remark, that his conduct throughout was equally defective in principle

and in sound policy. He alienated his allies by the most signal acts of

perfidy, seizing their fortresses for himself, and entering their capitals

with all the vaunt and insolent port of a conquerer. On his approach to

Rome, the pope and the cardinals took refuge in the castle of St. Angelo,

and on the 31st of December, Charles defiled into the city at the head of

his victorious chivalry; if victorious they could be called, when, as an

Italian historian remarks, they had scarcely broken a lance, or spread a

tent, in the whole of their progress. [30]

The Italians were panic-struck at the aspect of troops so different from

their own, and so superior to them in organization, science, and military

equipment; and still more in a remorseless ferocity of temper, which had

rarely been witnessed in their own feuds. Warfare was conducted on

peculiar principles in Italy, adapted to the character and circumstances

of the people. The business of fighting, in her thriving communities,

instead of forming part of the regular profession of a gentleman, as in

other countries at this period, was intrusted to the hands of a few

soldiers of fortune, _condottieri_, as they were called, who hired

themselves out, with the forces under their command, consisting

exclusively of heavy-armed cavalry, to whatever state would pay them best.

These forces constituted the capital, as it were, of the military chief,

whose obvious interest it was to economize as far as possible all

unnecessary expenditure of his resources. Hence, the science of defence

was almost exclusively studied. The object seemed to be, not so much the

annoyance of the enemy, as self-preservation. The common interests of the

_condottieri_ being paramount to every obligation towards the state

which they served, they easily came to an understanding with one another

to spare their troops as much as possible; until at length battles were

fought with little more personal hazard than would be incurred in an

ordinary tourney. The man-at-arms was riveted into plates of steel of

sufficient thickness to turn a musket-ball. The ease of the soldier was so

far consulted, that the artillery, in a siege, was not allowed to be fired

on either side from sunset to sunrise, for fear of disturbing his repose.

Prisoners were made for the sake of their ransom, and but little blood was

spilled in an action. Machiavelli records two engagements, at Anghiari and

Castracaro, among the most noted of the time for their important

consequences. The one lasted four hours, and the other half a day. The

reader is hurried along through all the bustle of a well-contested fight,

in the course of which the field is won and lost several times; but, when

he comes to the close, and looks for the list of killed and wounded, he

finds to his surprise not a single man slain, in the first of these

actions; and, in the second, only one, who, having tumbled from his horse,

and being unable to rise, from the weight of his armor, was suffocated in

the mud! Thus war became disarmed of its terrors. Courage was no longer

essential in a soldier; and the Italian, made effeminate, if not timid,

was incapable of encountering the adventurous daring and severe discipline

of the northern warrior. [31]

The astonishing success of the French was still more imputable to the free

use and admirable organization of their infantry, whose strength lay in

the Swiss mercenaries. Machiavelli ascribes the misfortunes of his nation

chiefly to its exclusive reliance on cavalry. [32] This service, during

the whole of the Middle Ages, was considered among the European nations

the most important; the horse being styled by way of eminence "the

battle." The memorable conflict of Charles the Bold with the Swiss

mountaineers, however, in which the latter broke in pieces the celebrated

Burgundian _ordonnance_, constituting the finest body of chivalry of

the age, demonstrated the capacity of infantry; and the Italian wars, in

which we are now engaged, at length fully re-established its ancient

superiority.

The Swiss were formed into battalions varying from three to eight thousand

men each. They wore little defensive armor, and their principal weapon was

the pike, eighteen feet long. Formed into these solid battalions, which,

bristling with spears all around, received the technical appellation of

the _hedgehog_, they presented an invulnerable front on every quarter. In

the level field, with free scope allowed for action, they bore down all

opposition, and received unshaken the most desperate charges of the steel-

clad cavalry on their terrible array of pikes. They were too unwieldy,

however, for rapid or complicated manoeuvres; they were easily

disconcerted by any unforseen impediment, or irregularity of the ground;

and the event proved, that the Spanish foot, armed with its short swords

and bucklers, by breaking in under the long pikes of its enemy, could

succeed in bringing him to close action, where his formidable weapon was

of no avail. It was repeating the ancient lesson of the Roman legion and

the Macedonian phalanx. [33]

In artillery, the French were at this time in advance of the Italians,

perhaps of every nation in Europe. The Italians, indeed, were so

exceedingly defective in this department, that their best field-pieces

consisted of small copper tubes, covered with wood and hides. They were

mounted on unwieldy carriages drawn by oxen, and followed by cars or

wagons loaded with stone balls. These guns were worked so awkwardly, that

the besieged, says Guicciardini, had time between the discharges to repair

the mischief inflicted by them. From these circumstances, artillery was

held in so little repute, that some of the most competent Italian writers

thought it might be dispensed with altogether in field engagements. [34]

The French, on the other hand, were provided with a beautiful train of

ordnance, consisting of bronze cannon about eight feet in length, and many

smaller pieces. [35] They were lightly mounted, drawn by horses, and

easily kept pace with the rapid movements of the army. They discharged

iron balls, and were served with admirable skill, intimidating their

enemies by the rapidity and accuracy of their fire, and easily demolishing

their fortifications, which, before this invasion, were constructed with

little strength or science. [36]

The rapid successes of the French spread consternation among the Italian

states, who now for the first time seemed to feel the existence of a

common interest, and the necessity of efficient concert. Ferdinand was

active in promoting these dispositions, through his ministers, Garcilasso

de la Vega and Alonso de Silva. The latter had quitted the French court on

its entrance into Italy, and withdrawn to Genoa. From this point he opened

a correspondence with Lodovico Sforza, who now began to understand, that

he had brought a terrible engine into play, the movements of which,

however mischievous to himself, were beyond his strength to control. Silva

endeavored to inflame still further his jealousy of the French, who had

already given him many serious causes of disgust; and, in order to detach

him more effectually from Charles's interests, encouraged him with the

hopes of forming a matrimonial alliance for his son with one of the

infantas of Spain. At the same time, he used every effort to bring about a

co-operation between the duke and the republic of Venice, thus opening the

way to the celebrated league which was concluded in the following year.

[37]

The Roman pontiff had lost no time, after the appearance of the French

army in Italy, in pressing the Spanish court to fulfil its engagements. He

endeavored to propitiate the good-will of the sovereigns by several

important concessions. He granted to them and their successors the

_tercias_, or two-ninths of the tithes, throughout the dominions of

Castile; an impost still forming part of the regular revenue of the crown.

[38] He caused bulls of crusade to be promulgated throughout Spain,

granting at the same time a tenth of the ecclesiastical rents, with the

understanding that the proceeds should be devoted to the protection of the

Holy See. Towards the close of this year, 1494, or the beginning of the

following, he conferred the title of Catholic on the Spanish sovereigns,

in consideration, as is stated, of their eminent virtues, their zeal in

defence of the true faith of the apostolic see, their reformation of

conventual discipline, their subjugation of the Moors of Granada, and the

purification of their dominions from the Jewish heresy. This orthodox

title, which still continues to be the jewel most prized in the Spanish

crown, has been appropriated in a peculiar manner to Ferdinand and

Isabella, who are universally recognized in history as _Los Reyes

Católicos_. [39]

Ferdinand was too sensible of the peril, to which the occupation of Naples

by the French would expose his own interests, to require any stimulant to

action from the Roman pontiff. Naval preparations had been going forward

during the summer, in the ports of Galicia and Guipuscoa. A considerable

armament was made ready for sea by the latter part of December, at

Alicant, and placed under the command of Galceran de Requesens, count of

Trevento. The land forces were intrusted to Gonsalvo de Cordova, better

known in history as the Great Captain. Instructions were at the same time

sent to the viceroy of Sicily, to provide for the security of that island,

and to hold himself in readiness to act in concert with the Spanish fleet.

[40]

Ferdinand, however, determined to send one more embassy to Charles the

Eighth, before coming to an open rupture with him. He selected for this

mission Juan de Albion and Antonio de Fonseca, brother of the bishop of

that name, whom we have already noticed as superintendent of the Indian

department. The two envoys reached Rome, January 28th, 1495, the same day

on which Charles set out on his march for Naples. They followed the army,

and on arriving at Veletri, about twenty miles from the capital, were

admitted to an audience by the monarch, who received them in the presence

of his officers. The ambassadors freely enumerated the various causes of

complaint entertained by their master against the French king; the insult

offered to him in the person of his minister Alonso de Silva; the

contumelious treatment of the pope, and forcible occupation of the

fortresses and estates of the church; and finally, the enterprise against

Naples, the claims to which as a papal fief could of right be determined

in no other way than by the arbitration of the pontiff himself. Should

King Charles consent to accept this arbitration, they tendered the good

offices of their master as mediator between the parties; should he decline

it, however, the king of Spain stood absolved from all further obligations

of amity with him, by the terms of the treaty of Barcelona, which

expressly recognized his right to interfere in defence of the church. [41]

Charles, who could not dissemble his indignation during this discourse,

retorted with great acrimony, when it was concluded, on the conduct of

Ferdinand, which he stigmatized as perfidious, accusing him, at the same

time, of a deliberate design to circumvent him, by introducing into their

treaty the clause respecting the pope. As to the expedition against

Naples, he had now gone too far to recede; and it would be soon enough to

canvass the question of right, when he had got possession of it. His

courtiers, at the same time, with the impetuosity of their nation,

heightened by the insolence of success, told the envoys, that they knew

well enough how to defend their rights with their arms, and that King

Ferdinand would find the French chivalry enemies of quite another sort

from the holiday tilters of Granada.

These taunts led to mutual recrimination, until at length Fonseca, though

naturally a sedate person, was so far transported with anger, that he

exclaimed, "The issue then must be left to God,--arms must decide it;"

and, producing the original treaty, bearing the signatures of the two

monarchs, he tore it in pieces before the eyes of Charles and his court.

At the same time he commanded two Spanish knights who served in the French

army to withdraw from it, under pain of incurring the penalties of

treason. The French cavaliers were so much incensed by this audacious

action, that they would have seized the envoys, and, in all probability,

offered violence to their persons, but for Charles's interposition, who

with more coolness caused them to be conducted from his presence, and sent

back under a safe escort to Rome. Such are the circumstances reported by

the French and Italian writers of this remarkable interview. They were not

aware that the dramatic exhibition, as far as the ambassadors were

concerned, was all previously concerted before their departure from Spain.

[42]

Charles pressed forward on his march without further delay. Alfonso the

Second, losing his confidence and martial courage, the only virtues that

he possessed, at the crisis when they were most demanded, had

precipitately abandoned his kingdom while the French were at Rome, and

taken refuge in Sicily, where he formally abdicated the crown in favor of

his son, Ferdinand the Second. This prince, then twenty-five years of age,

whose amiable manners were rendered still more attractive by contrast with

the ferocious temper of his father, was possessed of talent and energy

competent to the present emergency, had he been sustained by his subjects.

But the latter, besides being struck with the same panic which had

paralyzed the other people of Italy, had too little interest in the

government to be willing to hazard much in its defence. A change of

dynasty was only a change of masters, by which they had little either to

gain or to lose. Though favorably inclined to Ferdinand, they refused to

stand by him in his perilous extremity. They gave way in every direction,

as the French advanced, rendering hopeless every attempt of their spirited

young monarch to rally them, till at length no alternative was left, but

to abandon his dominions to the enemy, without striking a blow in their

defence. He withdrew to the neighboring island of Ischia, whence he soon

after passed into Sicily, and occupied himself there in collecting the

fragments of his party, until the time should arrive for more decisive

action. [43]

Charles the Eighth made his entrance into Naples at the head of his

legions, February 22d, 1495, having traversed this whole extent of hostile

territory in less time than would be occupied by a fashionable tourist of

the present day. The object of his expedition was now achieved. He seemed

to have reached the consummation of his wishes; and, although he assumed

the titles of King of Sicily and of Jerusalem, and affected the state and

authority of Emperor, he took no measures for prosecuting his chimerical

enterprise further. He even neglected to provide for the security of his

present conquest; and, without bestowing a thought on the government of

his new dominions, resigned himself to the licentious and effeminate

pleasures so congenial with the soft voluptuousness of the climate, and

his own character. [44]

While Charles was thus wasting his time and resources in frivolous

amusements, a dark storm was gathering in the north. There was not a state

through which he had passed, however friendly to his cause, which had not

complaints to make of his insolence, his breach of faith, his infringement

of their rights, and his exorbitant exactions. His impolitic treatment of

Sforza had long since alienated that wily and restless politician, and

raised suspicions in his mind of Charles's designs against his own duchy

of Milan. The emperor elect, Maximilian, whom the French king thought to

have bound to his interests by the treaty of Senlis, took umbrage at his

assumption of the imperial title and dignity. The Spanish ambassadors,

Garcilasso de la Vega, and his brother Lorenzo Suarez, the latter of whom

resided at Venice, were indefatigable in stimulating the spirit of

discontent. Suarez, in particular, used every effort to secure the co-

operation of Venice, representing to the government, in the most urgent

terms, the necessity of general concert and instant action among the great

powers of Italy, if they would preserve their own liberties. [45]

Venice, from its remote position, seemed to afford the best point for

coolly contemplating the general interests of Italy. Envoys of the

different European powers were assembled there, as if by common consent,

with the view of concerting some scheme of operation for their mutual

good. The conferences were conducted by night, and with such secrecy as to

elude for some time the vigilant eye of Comines, the sagacious minister of

Charles, then resident at the capital. The result was the celebrated

league of Venice. It was signed the last day of March, 1495, on the part

of Spain, Austria, Rome, Milan, and the Venetian republic. The ostensible

object of the treaty, which was to last twenty-five years, was the

preservation of the estates and rights of the confederates, especially of

the Roman see. A large force, amounting in all to thirty-four thousand

horse and twenty thousand foot, was to be assessed in stipulated

proportions on each of the contracting parties. The secret articles of the

treaty, however, went much further, providing a formidable plan of

offensive operations. It was agreed in these, that King Ferdinand should

employ the Spanish armament, now arrived in Sicily, in re-establishing his

kinsman on the throne of Naples; that a Venetian fleet of forty galleys

should attack the French positions on the Neapolitan coasts; that the duke

of Milan should expel the French from Asti, and blockade the passes of the

Alps, so as to intercept the passage of further reinforcements; and that

the emperor and the king of Spain should invade the French frontiers, and

their expenses be defrayed by subsidies from the allies. [46] Such were

the terms of this treaty, which may be regarded as forming an era in

modern political history, since it exhibits the first example of those

extensive combinations among European princes, for mutual defence, which

afterwards became so frequent. It shared the fate of many other

coalitions, where the name and authority of the whole have been made

subservient to the interests of some one of the parties, more powerful, or

more cunning, than the rest.

The intelligence of the new treaty diffused general joy throughout Italy.

In Venice, in particular, it was greeted with _fêtes_, illuminations,

and the most emphatic public rejoicing, in the very eyes of the French

minister, who was compelled to witness this unequivocal testimony of the

detestation in which his countrymen were held. [47] The tidings fell

heavily on the ears of the French in Naples. It dispelled the dream of

idle dissipation in which they were dissolved. They felt little concern,

indeed, on the score of their Italian enemies, whom their easy victories

taught them to regard with the same insolent contempt, that the paladins

of romance are made to feel for the unknightly rabble, myriads of whom

they could overturn with a single lance. But they felt serious alarm as

they beheld the storm of war gathering from other quarters,--from Spain

and Germany, in defiance of the treaties by which they had hoped to secure

them. Charles saw the necessity of instant action. Two courses presented

themselves: either to strengthen himself in his new conquests, and prepare

to maintain them until he could receive fresh reinforcements from home, or

to abandon them altogether and retreat across the Alps, before the allies

could muster in sufficient strength to oppose him. With the indiscretion

characteristic of his whole enterprise, he embraced a middle course, and

lost the advantages which would have resulted from the exclusive adoption

of either.

* * * * *

The principal light, by which we are to be guided through the remainder of

this history, is the Aragonese annalist, Zurita, whose great work,

although less known abroad than those of some more recent Castilian

writers, sustains a reputation at home, unsurpassed by any other, in the

great, substantial qualities of an historian. The notice of his life and

writings has been swelled into a bulky quarto by Dr. Diego Dormer, in a

work entitled, "Progressos de la Historia en el Reyno de Aragon. Zaragoza,

1680;" from which I extract a few particulars.

Gerónimo Zurita, descended from an ancient and noble family, was born at

Saragossa, December 4th, 1512. He was matriculated at an early age in the

university of Alcalá. He there made extraordinary proficiency, under the

immediate instruction of the learned Nuñez de Guzman, commonly called El

Pinciano. He became familiar with the ancient, and a variety of modern

tongues, and attracted particular attention by the purity and elegance of

his Latinity. His personal merits, and his father's influence, recommended

him, soon after quitting the university, to the notice of the emperor

Charles V. He was consulted and employed in affairs of public importance,

and subsequently raised to several posts of honor, attesting the entire

confidence reposed in his integrity and abilities. His most honorable

appointment, however, was that of national historiographer.

In 1547, an act passed the cortes general of Aragon, providing for the

office of national chronicler, with a fixed salary, whose duty it should

be to compile, from authentic sources, a faithful history of the monarchy.

The talents and eminent qualifications of Zurita recommended him to this

post, and he was raised to it by the unanimous consent of the legislature,

in the following year, 1548. From this time he conscientiously devoted

himself to the execution of his great task. He visited every part of his

own country, as well as Sicily and Italy, for the purpose of collecting

materials. The public archives, and every accessible source of

information, were freely thrown open to his inspection, by order of the

government; and he returned from his literary pilgrimage with a large

accumulation of rare and original documents. The first portion of his

annals was published at Saragossa, in two volumes folio, 1562. The work

was not completed until nearly twenty years later, and the last two

volumes were printed under his own eye at Saragossa, in 1580, a few months

only before his death. This edition, being one of those used in the

present history, is in large folio, fairly executed, with double columns

on the page, in the fashion of most of the ancient Spanish historians. The

whole work was again published, as before, at the expense of the state, in

1585, by his son, amended and somewhat enlarged, from the manuscripts left

by his father. Bouterwek has fallen into the error of supposing, that no

edition of Zurita's Annals appeared till after the reign of Philip II.,

who died in 1592. (Geschichte der Poesie und Beredsamkeit, band iii. p.

319.)

No incidents worthy of note seem to have broken the peaceful tenor of

Zurita's life; which he terminated at Saragossa, in the sixty-eighth year

of his age, in the monastery of Santa Engracia, to which he had retired

during a temporary residence in the city, to superintend the publication

of his Annals. His rich collection of books and manuscripts was left to

the Carthusian monastery of Aula Dei; but from accident or neglect, the

greater part have long since perished. His remains were interred in the

convent where he died, and a monument, bearing a modest inscription, was

erected over them by his son.

The best monument of Zurita, however, is his Annals. They take up the

history of Aragon from its first rise after the Arabic conquest, and

continue it to the death of Ferdinand the Catholic. The reign of this

prince, as possessing the largest interest and importance, is expanded

into two volumes folio; being one-third of the whole work.

The minuteness of Zurita's investigations has laid him open to the charge

of prolixity, especially in the earlier and less important periods. It

should be remembered, however, that his work was to be the great national

repository of facts, interesting to his own countrymen, but which, from

difficulty of access to authentic sources, could never before be fully

exhibited to their inspection. But, whatever he thought of his redundancy,

in this or the subsequent parts of his narrative, it must be admitted that

he has uniformly and emphatically directed the attention of the reader to

the topics most worthy of it; sparing no pains to illustrate the

constitutional antiquities of the country, and to trace the gradual

formation of her liberal polity, instead of wasting his strength on mere

superficial gossip, like most of the chroniclers of the period.

There is no Spanish historian less swayed by party or religious prejudice,

or by the feeling of nationality, which is so apt to overflow in the loyal

effusions of the Castilian writers. This laudable temperance, indeed, has

brought on him the rebuke of more than one of his patriotic countrymen.

There is a sobriety and coolness in his estimate of historical evidence,

equally removed from temerity on the one hand, and credulity on the other;

in short, his whole manner is that of a man conversant with public

business, and free from the closet pedantry which too often characterizes

the monkish annalists. The greater part of his life was passed under the

reign of Charles V., when the spirit of the nation was not yet broken by

arbitrary power, nor debased by the melancholy superstition which settled

on it under his successor; an age, in which the memory of ancient liberty

had not wholly faded away, and when, if men did not dare express all they

thought, they at least thought with a degree of independence which gave a

masculine character to their expression. In this, as well as in the

liberality of his religious sentiments, he may be compared favorably with

his celebrated countryman Mariana, who, educated in the cloister, and at a

period when the nation was schooled to maxims of despotism, exhibits few

glimpses of the sound criticism and reflection, which are to be found in

the writings of his Aragonese rival. The seductions of style, however, the

more fastidious selection of incidents, in short, the superior graces of

narration, have given a wider fame to the former, whose works have passed

into most of the cultivated languages of Europe, while those of Zurita

remain, as far as I am aware, still undisturbed in the vernacular.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Zurita, Historia del Rey Don Hernando el Cathólico, (Anales, tom. v.

vi., Zaragoza, 1580,) lib. 1, Introd.

[2] The "Legazione," or official correspondence of Machiavelli, while

stationed at the different European courts, may be regarded as the most

complete manual of diplomacy as it existed at the beginning of the

sixteenth century. It affords more copious and curious information

respecting the interior workings of the governments with whom he resided,

than is to be found in any regular history; and it shows the variety and

extent of duties attached to the office of resident minister, from the

first moment of its creation.

[3] "Sed diu," says Sallust, noticing the similar consequence of increased

refinement among the ancients, "magnum inter mortales certamen fuit, vine

corporis an virtute animi res militaris magis procederet. ***** Tum demum

periculo atque negotiis compertum est, in bello plurimum ingenium posse."

Bellum Catilinarium, cap. 1, 2.

[4] Machiavelli's political treatises, his "Principe" and "Discorsi sopra

Tito Livio," which appeared after his death, excited no scandal at the

time of their publication. They came into the world, indeed, from the

pontifical press, under the privilege of the reigning pope, Clement VII.

It was not until thirty years later that they were placed on the Index;

and this not from any exceptions taken at the immorality of their

doctrines, as Ginguené has well proved, (Histoire Littéraire d'Italie,

(Paris, 1811-19,) tom. viii. pp. 32, 74,) but from the imputations they

contained on the court of Rome.

[5] "Aquel Senado é Señoría de Venecianos," says Gonzalo de Oviedo, "donde

me parece á mi que esta recogido todo el saber é prudencia de los hombres

humanos; porque és la gente del mundo que mejor se sabe gobernar; é la

republica, que mas tiempo há durado en el mundo por la buena forma de su

regimiento, é donde con mejor manera hán los hombres vivido en comunidad

sin tener Rey;" etc. Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 44.

[6] Of all the incense which poets and politicians have offered to the

Queen of the Adriatic, none is more exquisite than that conveyed in these

few lines, where Sannazaro notices her position as the bulwark of

Christendom.

"Una Italum regina, altae pulcherrima Romae

Aemula, quae terris, quae dominaris aquis!

Tu tibi vel reges cives facis; O decus! O lux

Ausoniae, per quam libera turba sumus;

Per quam barbaries nobis non imperat, et Sol

Exoriens nostro clarius orbe micat!"

Opera Latina, lib. 3, eleg. 1, 95.

[7] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 3, p. 147.

[8] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 119, 123.--Fleury, Histoire

Ecclésiastique, contin. (Paris, 1722,) tom. xxiv. lib. 117, p. 545.--Peter

Martyr, whose residence and rank at the Spanish court gave him access to

the best sources of information as to the repute in which the new pontiff

was held there, expresses himself in one of his letters to Cardinal

Sforza, who had assisted at his election, in the following unequivocal

language. "Sed hoc habeto, princeps illustrissime, non placuisse meis

Regibus pontificatum ad Alexandrum, quamvis eorum ditionarium, pervenisse.

Verentur namque ne illius cupiditas, ne ambitio, ne (quod gravius)

mollities filialis Christianam religionem in praeceps trahat." Epist. 119.

[9] A remarkable example of this occurred in the middle of the fifteenth

century, when the inundation of the Turks, which seemed ready to burst

upon them, after overwhelming the Arabian and Greek empires, had no power

to still the voice of faction, or to concentrate the attention of the

Italian states, even for a moment.

[10] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 1, p. 2.

[11] Brantôme, Vies des Hommes Illustres, Oeuvres Complètes, (Paris, 1822-

3,) tom. ii. disc. i. pp. 2, 20.

[12] Sismondi, Hist. des Français, tom. xv. p. 112.--Gaillard, Rivalité,

tom. iv. pp. 2, 3.

[13] Daru, Histoire de la République de Venise, (Paris, 1821,) tom. iii.

liv. 20.--See the deed of cession, in the memoir of M. de Foncemagne.

(Mémoires de l'Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, tom. xvii. pp.

539-579.) This document, as well as some others which appeared on the eve

of Charles's expedition, breathes a tone of Quixotic and religious

enthusiasm that transports us back to the days of the crusades.

[14] The conflicting claims of Anjou and Aragon are stated at length by

Gaillard, with more candor and impartiality than were to be expected from

a French writer. (Histoire de François I., (Paris, 1769,) tom. i. pp. 71-

92.) They form the subject of a juvenile essay of Gibbon, in which we may

discern the germs of many of the peculiarities which afterwards

characterized the historian of the Decline and Fall. Miscellaneous Works,

(London, 1814.) vol. iii. pp. 206-222.

[15] Essai sur les Moeurs, chap. 107.--His politic father, Louis XI.,

acted on this principle, for he made no attempt to maintain his

pretensions to Naples; although Mably affects to doubt whether this were

not the result of necessity rather than policy. "Il est douteux si cette

modération fut l'ouvrage d'une connoissance approfondie de ses vrais

intérêts, ou seulement de cette défiance qu'il avoit des grands de son

royaume, et qu'il n'osoit perdre de vue." Observations sur l'Histoire de

France, Oeuvres, (Paris, 1794-5,) liv. 6, chap. 4.

[16] Flassan, Histoire de la Diplomatic Française, (Paris, 1809,) tom. i.

pp. 254-259.--Dumont, Corps Universel Diplomatique du Droit des Gens,

(Amsterdam, 1726-31,) tom. iii. pp. 297-300.

[17] See the narrative of these transactions in the Fifth and Sixth

Chapters of Part I. of this History.

Most historians seem to take it for granted, that Louis XI. advanced a sum

of money to the king of Aragon; and some state, that payment of the debt,

for which the provinces were mortgaged, was subsequently tendered to the

French king. (See, among others, Sismondi, Républiques Italiennes, tom.

xii. p. 93.--Roscoe, Life and Pontificate of Leo X., (London, 1827,) vol.

i. p. 147.) The first of these statements is a palpable error; and I find

no evidence of the last in any Spanish authority, where, if true, it would

naturally have been noticed. I must, indeed, except Bernaldez, who says,

that Ferdinand having repaid the money, borrowed by his father from Louis

XI., to Charles VIII., the latter monarch returned it to Isabella, in

consideration of the great expenses incurred by the Moorish war. It is a

pity that this romantic piece of gallantry does not rest on any better

foundation than the Curate of Los Palacios, who shows a degree of

ignorance in the first part of his statement, that entitles him to little

credit in the last. Indeed, the worthy curate, although much to be relied

on for what passed in his own province, may be found frequently tripping

in the details of what passed out of it. Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS.,

cap. 117.

[18] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 4, 7, 10.

[19] Fleury, Histoire Ecclésiastique, contin., tom. xxiv. pp. 533-555.--

Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 14.--Daru, Hist. de Venise,

tom. iii. pp. 51, 52.--Gaillard, Rivalité, tom. iv. p. 10.--Abarca, Reyes

de Aragon, tom. ii. rey 30, cap. 6.

Comines, alluding to the affair of Roussillon, says that Ferdinand and

Isabella, whether from motives of economy or hypocrisy, always employed

priests in their negotiations. "Car toutes leurs oeuvres ont fait mener et

conduire par telles gens (religieux), ou par hypocrisie, ou afin de moins

despendre." (Mémoires, p. 211.) The French king, however, made more use of

the clergy in this very transaction than the Spanish. Zurita, Hist. del

Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 10.

[20] Paolo Giovio, Historia sui Temporis, (Basiliae, 1578,) lib. 1, p.

16.--The treaty of Barcelona is given at length by Dumont. (Corps

Diplomatique, tom. iii. pp. 297-300.) It is reported with sufficient

inaccuracy by many historians, who make no hesitation in saying, that

Ferdinand expressly bound himself, by one of the articles, not to

interfere with Charles's meditated attempt on Naples. (Gaillard, Rivalité,

tom. iv. p. 11.--Voltaire, Essai sur les Moeurs, chap. 107.--Comines,

Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 23.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 1, p. 16.--

Varillas, Politique d'Espagne, ou du Roi Ferdinand, (Amsterdam, 1688,) pp.

11, 12.--Roscoe, Life of Leo X., tom. i. chap. 3.) So far from this, there

is no allusion whatever to the proposed expedition in the treaty, nor is

the name of Naples once mentioned in it.

[21] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 18.--Abarca, Reyes de

Aragon, ubi supra.

[22] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 28.--Bembo, Istoria

Viniziana, (Milano, 1809,) tom. i. lib. 2, pp. 118, 119.--Oviedo,

Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 43.

[23] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, introd.

[24] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 20.--Peter Martyr, Opus

Epist., epist. 123.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 3.--Mariana, Hist.

de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 6.--Zurita concludes the arguments which

decided Ferdinand against assuming the enterprise, with one which may be

considered the gist of the whole matter. "El Rey entendia bien que no era

tan facil la causa que se proponia." Lib. 1, cap. 20.

[25] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 31.

[26] Oviedo notices Silva as one of three brothers, all gentle cavaliers,

of unblemished honor, remarkable for the plainness of their persons, the

elegance and courtesy of their manners, and the magnificence of their

style of living. This one, Alonso, he describes as a man of a singularly

clear head. Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 4.

[27] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, ubi supra.

[28] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib, 1, cap. 31, 41.

[29] Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, Collection des Mémoires, tom.

xiv. pp. 255, 256.

The French army consisted of 3600 gens d'armes, 20,000 French infantry,

and 8000 Swiss, without including the regular camp followers. (Sismondi,

Républiques Italiennes, tom. xii. p. 132.)

The splendor and novelty of their appearance excited a degree of

admiration, which disarmed in some measure the terror of the Italians.

Peter Martyr, whose distance from the theatre of action enabled him to

contemplate more calmly the operation of events, beheld with a prophetic

eye the magnitude of the calamities impending over his country. In one of

his letters, he writes thus; "Scribitur exercitum visum fuisse nostra

tempestate nullum unquam nitidiorem. Et qui futuri sunt calamitatis

participes, Carolum aciesque illius ac peditum turmas laudibus extollunt;

sed Italorum impensâ instructas." (Opus Epist., epist. 143.) He concludes

another with this remarkable prediction; "Perimeris, Galle, ex majori

parte, nec in patriam redibis. Jacebis insepultus; sed tua non restituetur

strages, Italia." Epist. 123.

[30] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 1, p. 71.--Scipione Ammirato,

Istorie Fiorentine, (Firenze, 1647,) p. 205.--Giannone, Istoria di Napoli,

tom. iii. lib. 29, introd.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 17.--Oviedo,

Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 43.

[31] Du Bos, Histoire de la Ligue faite à Cambray, (Paris, 1728), tom. i.

dissert, prélim.--Machiavelli, Istorie Fiorentine, lib. 5.--Denina,

Rivoluzioni d'Italia, lib. 18, cap. 3.

[32] Arte della Guerra, lib. 2.

[33] Machiavelli, Arte della Guerra, lib. 3.--Du Bos, Ligue de Cambray,

tom. i. dis. prélim.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 41. Polybius,

in his minute account of this celebrated military institution of the

Greeks, has recapitulated nearly all the advantages and defects imputed to

the Swiss _hérisson_, by modern European writers. (See lib. 17, sec.

25 et seq.) It is singular, that these exploded arms and tactics should be

revived, after the lapse of nearly seventeen centuries, to be foiled again

in the same manner as before.

[34] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. pp. 45, 46.--Machiavelli, Arte della

Guerra, lib. 3.--Du Bos, Ligue de Cambray, ubi supra.

[35] Guicciardini speaks of the name of "cannon," which the French gave to

their pieces, as a novelty at that time in Italy. Istoria, pp. 45, 46.

[36] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 42.--Machiavelli, Arte della

Guerra, lib. 7.

[37] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 35.--Alonso da Silva

acquitted himself to the entire satisfaction of the sovereigns, in his

difficult mission. He was subsequently sent on various others to the

different Italian courts, and uniformly sustained his reputation for

ability and prudence. He did not live to be old. Oviedo, Quincuagenas,

MS., bat. 1, quinc. 4.

[38] Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 6.--Salazar de

Mendoza, Monarquía, lib. 3, cap. 14.

This branch of the revenue yields at the present day, according to

Laborde, about 6,000,000 reals, or 1,500,000 francs. Itinéraire, tom. vi.

p. 51.

[39] Zurita, Abarca, and other Spanish historians, fix the date of

Alexander's grant at the close of 1496. (Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib, 2,

cap. 40.--Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 9.) Martyr notices it with great

particularity as already conferred, in a letter of February, 1495. (Opus

Epist., epist. 157.) The pope, according to Comines, designed to

compliment Ferdinand and Isabella for their conquest of Granada, by

transferring to them the title of Most Christian, hitherto enjoyed by the

kings of France. He had even gone so far as to address them thus in more

than one of his briefs. This produced a remonstrance from a number of the

cardinals; which led him to substitute the title of Most Catholic. The

epithet of Catholic was not new in the royal house of Castile, nor indeed

of Aragon; having been given to the Asturian prince Alfonso I. about the

middle of the eighth, and to Pedro II., of Aragon, at the beginning of the

thirteenth century.

I will remark, in conclusion, that, although the phrase _Los Reyes

Católicos_, as applied to a female equally with a male, would have a

whimsical appearance literally translated into English, it is perfectly

consonant to the Spanish idiom, which requires that all words, having

reference to both a masculine and a feminine noun, should be expressed in

the former gender. So also in the ancient languages; _Aemen tyrannoi_,

says Queen Hecuba; (Euripides, _Troad_, v. 476.) But it is clearly

incorrect to render _Los Reyes Católicos_, as usually done by English

writers, by the corresponding term of "Catholic kings."

[40] Carbajal, Anales, MS., año 1495.

[41] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 138.--Sismondi, Républiques

Italiennes, tom. xii. pp. 192-194.--Garibay, Compendio, lib. 19, cap. 4.

[42] Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS., bat. 1, quinc. 3, dial. 43.--Zurita, Hist.

del Rey Hernando, lib. 1, cap. 43.--Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap.

138.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 46.--Lanuza, Historias, tom.

i. lib. 1, cap. 6.

This appears from a letter of Martyr's, dated three months before the

interview; in which he says, "Antonius Fonseca, vir equestris ordinis, et

armis clarus, destinatus est orator, qui eum moneat, ne, priusquam de jure

inter ipsum et Alfonsum regem Neapolitanum decernatur, ulterius procedat.

Fert in mandatis Antonius Fonseca, ut Carolo capitulum id sonans ostendat,

anteque ipsius oculos (si detrectaverit) pacti veteris chirographum

laceret, atque indicat inimicitias." Opus Epist., epist. 144.

[43] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 16.--Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud

Petitot, Collection des Mémoires, tom. xii., p. 260.--Ammirato, Istorie

Florentine, tom. iii. lib. 26.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib.

6, cap. 1, 2.

[44] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 55.--Giannone, Istoria di

Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 1, 2.--André de la Vigne, Histoire de Charles VIII.,

(Paris, 1617,) p. 201.

[45] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 56.--Guicciardini, Istoria,

tom. i. pp. 86, 87.--Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, tom. i. lib. 2, p. 120--

Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, chap. 3, 5.--Comines, Mémoires,

liv. 7, chap. 19.

[46] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 2, p. 88.--Comines, Mémoires,

liv. 7, chap. 20.--Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, tom. i. lib. 2, pp. 122,

123.--Daru, Hist. de Venise, tom. iii. pp. 255, 256.--Zurita, Hist. del

Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 5.

[47] Comines, Mémoires, p. 96.--Comines takes great credit to himself for

his perspicacity in detecting the secret negotiations carried on at Venice

against his master. According to Bembo, however, the affair was managed

with such profound caution, as to escape his notice until it was

officially announced by the doge himself; when he was so much astounded by

the intelligence, that he was obliged to ask the secretary of the senate,

who accompanied him home, the particulars of what the doge had said, as

his ideas were so confused at the time, that he had not perfectly

comprehended it. Istoria Viniziana, lib. 2, pp. 128, 129.

CHAPTER II.

ITALIAN WARS.--RETREAT OF CHARLES VIII.--CAMPAIGNS OF GONSALVO DE

CORDOVA.--FINAL EXPULSION OF THE FRENCH.

1495-1496.

Impolitic Conduct of Charles.--He Plunders the Works of Art.--Gonsalvo de

Cordova.--His Brilliant Qualities.--Raised to the Italian Command.--Battle

of Seminara.--Gonsalvo's Successes.--Decline of the French.--He Receives

the Title of Great Captain.--Expulsion of the French from Italy.

Charles the Eighth might have found abundant occupation, during his brief

residence at Naples, in placing the kingdom in a proper posture of

defence, and in conciliating the good-will of the inhabitants, without

which he could scarcely hope to maintain himself permanently in his

conquest. So far from this, however, he showed the utmost aversion to

business, wasting his hours, as has been already noticed, in the most

frivolous amusements. He treated the great feudal aristocracy of the

country with utter neglect; rendering himself difficult of access, and

lavishing all dignities and emoluments with partial prodigality on his

French subjects. His followers disgusted the nation still further by their

insolence and unbridled licentiousness. The people naturally called to

mind the virtues of the exiled Ferdinand, whose temperate rule they

contrasted with the rash and rapacious conduct of their new masters. The

spirit of discontent spread more widely, as the French were too thinly

scattered to enforce subordination. A correspondence was entered into with

Ferdinand in Sicily, and in a short time several of the most considerable

cities of the kingdom openly avowed their allegiance to the house of

Aragon. [1]

In the mean time, Charles and his nobles, satiated with a life of

inactivity and pleasure, and feeling that they had accomplished the great

object of the expedition, began to look with longing eyes towards their

own country. Their impatience was converted into anxiety on receiving

tidings of the coalition mustering in the north. Charles, however, took

care to secure to himself some of the spoils of victory, in a manner which

we have seen practised, on a much greater scale, by his countrymen in our

day. He collected the various works of art with which Naples was adorned,

precious antiques, sculptured marble and alabaster, gates of bronze

curiously wrought, and such architectural ornaments as were capable of

transportation, and caused them to be embarked on board his fleet for the

south of France, "endeavoring," says the Curate of Los Palacios, "to build

up his own renown on the ruins of the kings of Naples, of glorious

memory." His vessels, however, did not reach their place of destination,

but were captured by a Biscayan and Genoese fleet off Pisa. [2]

Charles had entirely failed in his application to Pope Alexander the Sixth

for a recognition of his right to Naples, by a formal act of investiture.

[3] He determined, however, to go through the ceremony of a coronation;

and, on the 12th of May, he made his public entrance into the city,

arrayed in splendid robes of scarlet and ermine, with the imperial diadem

on his head, a sceptre in one hand, and a globe, the symbol of universal

sovereignty, in the other; while the adulatory populace saluted his royal

ear with the august title of Emperor. After the conclusion of this farce,

he made preparations for his instant departure from Naples. On the 20th of

May, he set out on his homeward march, at the head of one-half of his

army, amounting in all to not more than nine thousand fighting men. The

other half was left for the defence of his new conquest. This arrangement

was highly impolitic, since he neither took with him enough to cover his

retreat, nor left enough to secure the preservation of Naples. [4]

It is not necessary to follow the French army in its retrograde movement

through Italy. It is enough to say, that this was not conducted with

sufficient despatch to anticipate the junction of the allied forces, who

assembled to dispute its passage on the banks of the Taro, near Fornovo.

An action was there fought, in which King Charles, at the head of his

loyal chivalry, achieved such deeds of heroism, as shed a lustre over his

ill-concerted enterprise, and which, if they did not gain him an

undisputed victory, secured the fruits of it, by enabling him to effect

his retreat without further molestation. At Turin he entered into

negotiation with the calculating duke of Milan, which terminated in the

treaty of Vercelli, October 10th, 1495. By this treaty Charles obtained no

other advantage than that of detaching his cunning adversary from the

coalition. The Venetians, although refusing to accede to it, made no

opposition to any arrangement, which would expedite the removal of their

formidable foe beyond the Alps. This was speedily accomplished; and

Charles, yielding to his own impatience and that of his nobles, recrossed

that mountain rampart which nature has so ineffectually provided for the

security of Italy, and reached Grenoble with his army on the 27th of the

month. Once more restored to his own dominions, the young monarch

abandoned himself without reserve to the licentious pleasures to which he

was passionately addicted, forgetting alike his dreams of ambition, and

the brave companions in arms whom he had deserted in Italy. Thus ended

this memorable expedition, which, though crowned with complete success,

was attended with no other permanent result to its authors, than that of

opening the way to those disastrous wars, which wasted the resources of

their country for a great part of the sixteenth century. [5]

Charles the Eighth had left as his viceroy in Naples Gilbert de Bourbon,

duke of Montpensier, a prince of the blood, and a brave and loyal

nobleman, but of slender military capacity, and so fond of his bed, says

Comines, that he seldom left it before noon. The command of the forces in

Calabria was intrusted to M. d'Aubigny, a Scottish cavalier of the house

of Stuart, raised by Charles to the dignity of grand constable of France.

He was so much esteemed for his noble and chivalrous qualities, that he

was styled by the annalists of that day, says Brantôme, "grand chevalier

sans reproche." He had large experience in military matters, and was

reputed one of the best officers in the French service. Besides these

principal commanders, there were others of subordinate rank stationed at

the head of small detachments on different points of the kingdom, and

especially in the fortified cities along the coasts. [6]

Scarcely had Charles the Eighth quitted Naples, when his rival, Ferdinand,

who had already completed his preparations in Sicily, made a descent on

the southern extremity of Calabria. He was supported in this by the

Spanish levies under the admiral Requesens, and Gonsalvo of Cordova, who

reached Sicily in the month of May. As the latter of these commanders was

destined to act a most conspicuous part in the Italian wars, it may not be

amiss to give some account of his early life.

Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova, or Aguilar, as he is sometimes styled from

the territorial title assumed by his branch of the family, was born at

Montilla, in 1453. His father died early, leaving two sons, Alonso de

Aguilar, whose name occurs in some of the most brilliant passages of the

war of Granada, and Gonsalvo, three years younger than his brother. During

the troubled reigns of John the Second and Henry the Fourth, the city of

Cordova was divided by the feuds of the rival families of Cabra and

Aguilar; and it is reported that the citizens of the latter faction, after

the loss of their natural leader, Gonsalvo's father, used to testify their

loyalty to his house by bearing the infant children along with them in

their rencontres; thus Gonsalvo may be said to have been literally nursed

amid the din of battle. [7]

On the breaking out of the civil wars, the two brothers attached

themselves to the fortunes of Alfonso and Isabella. At their court, the

young Gonsalvo soon attracted attention by the uncommon beauty of his

person, his polished manners, and proficiency in all knightly exercises.

He indulged in a profuse magnificence in his apparel, equipage, and

general style of living; a circumstance, which, accompanied with his

brilliant qualities, gave him the title at the court of _el príncipe de

los cavalleros_, the prince of cavaliers. This carelessness of expense,

indeed, called forth more than once the affectionate remonstrance of his

brother Alonso, who, as the elder son, had inherited the _mayorazgo_,

or family estate, and who provided liberally for Gonsalvo's support. He

served during the Portuguese war under Alonso de Cardenas, grand master of

St. James, and was honored with the public commendations of his general

for his signal display of valor at the battle of Albuera; where, it is

remarked, the young hero incurred an unnecessary degree of personal hazard

by the ostentatious splendor of his armor. Of this commander, and of the

count of Tendilla, Gonsalvo always spoke with the greatest deference,

acknowledging that he had learned the rudiments of war from them. [8]

The long war of Granada, however, was the great school in which his

military discipline was perfected. He did not, it is true, occupy so

eminent a position in these campaigns as some other chiefs of riper years

and more enlarged experience; but on various occasions he displayed

uncommon proofs both of address and valor. He particularly distinguished

himself at the capture of Tajara, Illora, and Monte Frio. At the last

place, he headed the scaling party, and was the first to mount the walls

in the face of the enemy. He wellnigh closed his career in a midnight

skirmish before Granada, which occurred a short time before the end of the

war. In the heat of the struggle his horse was slain; and Gonsalvo, unable

to extricate himself from the morass in which he was entangled, would have

perished, but for the faithful servant of the family, who mounted him on

his own horse, briefly commending to his master the care of his wife and

children. Gonsalvo escaped, but his brave follower paid for his loyalty

with his life. At the conclusion of the war, he was selected, together

with Ferdinand's secretary Zafra, in consequence of his plausible address,

and his familiarity with the Arabic, to conduct the negotiation with the

Moorish government. He was secretly introduced for this purpose by night

into Granada, and finally succeeded in arranging the terms of capitulation

with the unfortunate Abdallah, as has been already stated. In

consideration of his various services, the Spanish sovereigns granted him

a pension, and a large landed estate in the conquered territory. [9]

After the war, Gonsalvo remained with the court, and his high reputation

and brilliant exterior made him one of the most distinguished ornaments of

the royal circle. His manners displayed all the romantic gallantry

characteristic of the age, of which the following, among other instances,

is recorded. The queen accompanied her daughter Joanna on board the fleet

which was to bear her to Flanders, the country of her destined husband.

After bidding adieu to the infanta, Isabella returned in her boat to the

shore; but the waters were so swollen, that it was found difficult to make

good a footing for her on the beach. As the sailors were preparing to drag

the bark higher up the strand, Gonsalvo, who was present, and dressed, as

the Castilian historians are careful to inform us, in a rich suit of

brocade and crimson velvet, unwilling that the person of his royal

mistress should be profaned by the touch of such rude hands, waded into

the water, and bore the queen in his arms to the shore, amid the shouts

and plaudits of the spectators. The incident may form a counterpart to the

well-known anecdote of Sir Walter Raleigh. [10]

Isabella's long and intimate acquaintance with Gonsalvo enabled her to

form a correct estimate of his great talents. When the Italian expedition

was resolved on, she instantly fixed her eyes on him as the most suitable

person to conduct it. She knew that he possessed the qualities essential

to success in a new and difficult enterprise,--courage, constancy,

singular prudence, dexterity in negotiation, and inexhaustible fertility

of resource. She accordingly recommended him, without hesitation, to her

husband, as the commander of the Italian army. He approved her choice,

although it seems to have caused no little surprise at the court, which,

notwithstanding the favor in which Gonsalvo was held by the sovereigns,

was not prepared to see him advanced over the heads of veterans, of so

much riper years and higher military renown than himself. The event proved

the sagacity of Isabella. [11]

The part of the squadron destined to convey the new general to Sicily was

made ready for sea in the spring of 1495. After a tempestuous voyage, he

reached Messina on the 24th of May. He found that Ferdinand, of Naples,

had already begun operations in Calabria, where he had occupied Reggio

with the assistance of the admiral Requesens, who reached Sicily with a

part of the armament a short time previous to Gonsalvo's arrival. The

whole effective force of the Spaniards did not exceed six hundred lances

and fifteen hundred foot, besides those employed in the fleet, amounting

to about three thousand and five hundred more. The finances of Spain had

been too freely drained in the late Moorish war to authorize any

extraordinary expenditure; and Ferdinand designed to assist his kinsman

rather with his name, than with any great accession of numbers.

Preparations, however, were going forward for raising additional levies,

especially among the hardy peasantry of the Asturias and Galicia, on which

the war of Granada had fallen less heavily than on the south. [12.]

On the 26th of May, Gonsalvo de Cordova crossed over to Reggio in

Calabria, where a plan of operation was concerted between him and the

Neapolitan monarch. Before opening the campaign, several strong places in

the province, which owed allegiance to the Aragonese family, were placed

in the hands of the Spanish general, as security for the reimbursement of

expenses incurred by his government in the war. As Gonsalvo placed little

reliance on his Calabrian or Sicilian recruits, he was obliged to detach a

considerable part of his Spanish forces to garrison these places. [13]

The presence of their monarch revived the dormant loyalty of his Calabrian

subjects. They thronged to his standard, till at length he found himself

at the head of six thousand men, chiefly composed of the raw militia of

the country. He marched at once with Gonsalvo on St. Agatha, which opened

its gates without resistance. He then directed his course towards

Seminara, a place of some strength about eight leagues from Reggio. On his

way he cut in pieces a detachment of French on its march to reinforce the

garrison there. Seminara imitated the example of St. Agatha, and,

receiving the Neapolitan army without opposition, unfurled the standard of

Aragon on its walls. While this was going forward, Antonio Grimani, the

Venetian admiral, scoured the eastern coasts of the kingdom with a fleet

of four and twenty galleys, and, attacking the strong town of Monopoli, in

the possession of the French, put the greater part of the garrison to the

sword.

D'Aubigny, who lay at this time with an inconsiderable body of French

troops in the south of Calabria, saw the necessity of some vigorous

movement to check the further progress of the enemy. He determined to

concentrate his forces, scattered through the province, and march against

Ferdinand, in the hope of bringing him to a decisive action. For this

purpose, in addition to the garrisons dispersed among the principal towns,

he summoned to his aid the forces, consisting principally of Swiss

infantry, stationed in the Basilicate under Précy, a, brave young

cavalier, esteemed one of the best officers in the French service. After

the arrival of this reinforcement, aided by the levies of the Angevin

barons, D'Aubigny, whose effective strength now greatly surpassed that of

his adversary, directed his march towards Seminara. [14]

Ferdinand, who had received no intimation of his adversary's junction with

Précy, and who considered him much inferior to himself in numbers, no

sooner heard of his approach, than he determined to march out at once

before he could reach Seminara, and give him battle. Gonsalvo was of a

different opinion. His own troops had too little experience in war with

the French and Swiss veterans to make him willing to risk all on the

chances of a single battle. The Spanish heavy-armed cavalry, indeed, were

a match for any in Europe, and were even said to surpass every other in

the beauty and excellence of their appointments, at a period, when arms

were finished to luxury. [15] He had but a handful of these, however; by

far the greatest part of his cavalry consisting of _ginetes_, or

light-armed troops, of inestimable service in the wild guerilla warfare to

which they had been accustomed in Granada, but obviously incapable of

coping with the iron _gendarmerie_ of France. He felt some distrust,

too, in bringing his little corps of infantry without further preparation,

armed, as they were, only with short swords and bucklers, and much

reduced, as has been already stated, in number, to encounter the

formidable phalanx of Swiss pikes. As for the Calabrian levies, he did not

place the least reliance on them. At all events, he thought it prudent,

before coming to action, to obtain more accurate information than they now

possessed, of the actual strength of the enemy. [16]

In all this, however, he was overruled by the impatience of Ferdinand and

his followers. The principal Spanish cavaliers, indeed, as well as the

Italian, among whom, may be found names which afterwards rose to high

distinction in these wars, urged Gonsalvo to lay aside his scruples;

representing the impolicy of showing any distrust of their own strength at

this crisis, and of balking the ardor of their soldiers, now hot for

action. The Spanish chief, though far from being convinced, yielded to

these earnest remonstrances, and King Ferdinand led out his little army

without further delay against the enemy.

After traversing a chain of hills, stretching in an easterly direction

from Seminara, at the distance of about three miles he arrived before a

small stream, on the plains beyond which he discerned the French army in

rapid advance against him. He resolved to wait its approach; and, taking

position on the slope of the hills towards the river, he drew up his horse

on the right wing, and his infantry on the left. [17]

The French generals, D'Aubigny and Précy, putting themselves at the head

of their cavalry on the left, consisting of about four hundred heavy-

armed, and twice as many light horse, dashed into the water without

hesitation. Their right was occupied by the bristling phalanx of Swiss

spearmen in close array; behind these were the militia of the country. The

Spanish _ginetes_ succeeded in throwing the French gendarmerie into

some disorder, before it could form after crossing the stream; but, no

sooner was this accomplished, than the Spaniards, incapable of

withstanding the charge of their enemy, suddenly wheeled about and

precipitately retreated with the intention of again returning on their

assailants, after the fashion of the Moorish tactics. The Calabrian

militia, not comprehending this manoeuvre, interpreted it into a defeat.

They thought the battle lost, and, seized with a panic, broke their ranks,

and fled to a man, before the Swiss infantry had time so much as to lower

its lances against them.

King Ferdinand in vain attempted to rally the dastardly fugitives. The

French cavalry was soon upon them, making frightful slaughter in their

ranks. The young monarch, whose splendid arms and towering plumes made him

a conspicuous mark in the field, was exposed to imminent peril. He had

broken his lance in the body of one of the foremost of the French

cavaliers, when his horse fell under him, and as his feet were entangled

in the stirrups, he would inevitably have perished in the _mêlée_, but for

the prompt assistance of a young nobleman named Juan de Altavilla, who

mounted his master on his own horse, and calmly awaited the approach

of the enemy, by whom he was immediately slain. Instances of this

affecting loyalty and self-devotion not unfrequently occur in these wars,

throwing a melancholy grace over the darker and more ferocious features of

the time. [18]

Gonsalvo was seen in the thickest of the fight, long after the king's

escape, charging the enemy briskly at the head of his handful of

Spaniards, not in the hope of retrieving the day, but of covering the

flight of the panic-struck Neapolitans. At length he was borne along by

the rushing tide, and succeeded in bringing off the greater part of his

cavalry safe to Seminara. Had the French followed up the blow, the greater

part of the royal army, with probably King Ferdinand and Gonsalvo at its

head, would have fallen into their hands, and thus not only the fate of

the campaign, but of Naples itself, would have been permanently decided by

this battle. Fortunately, the French did not understand so well how to use

a victory, as to gain it. They made no attempt to pursue. This is imputed

to the illness of their general, D'Aubigny, occasioned by the extreme

unhealthiness of the climate. He was too feeble to sit long on his horse,

and was removed into a litter as soon as the action was decided. Whatever

was the cause, the victors by this inaction suffered the golden fruits of

victory to escape them. Ferdinand made his escape on the same day on board

a vessel which conveyed him back to Sicily; and Gonsalvo, on the following

morning before break of day, effected his retreat across the mountains to

Reggio, at the head of four hundred Spanish lances. Thus terminated the

first battle of importance in which Gonsalvo of Cordova held a

distinguished command; the only one which he lost during his long and

fortunate career. Its loss, however, attached no discredit to him, since

it was entered into in manifest opposition to his judgment. On the

contrary, his conduct throughout this affair tended greatly to establish

his reputation by showing him to be no less prudent in council, than bold

in action. [19]

King Ferdinand, far from being disheartened by this defeat, gained new

confidence from his experience of the favorable dispositions existing

towards him in Calabria. Relying on a similar feeling of loyalty in his

capital, he determined to hazard a bold stroke for its recovery; and that,

too, instantly, before his late discomfiture should have time to operate

on the spirits of his partisans. He accordingly embarked at Messina, with

a handful of troops only, on board the fleet of the Spanish admiral,

Requesens. It amounted in all to eighty vessels, most of them of

inconsiderable size. With this armament, which, notwithstanding its

formidable show, carried little effective force for land operations, the

adventurous young monarch appeared off the harbor of Naples before the end

of June.

Charles's viceroy, the duke of Montpensier, at that time garrisoned Naples

with six thousand French troops. On the appearance of the Spanish navy, he

marched out to prevent Ferdinand's landing, leaving a few only of his

soldiers to keep the city in awe. But he had scarcely quitted it before

the inhabitants, who had waited with impatience an opportunity for

throwing off the yoke, sounded the tocsin, and, rising to arms through

every part of the city, and massacring the feeble remains of the garrison,

shut the gates against him; while Ferdinand, who had succeeded in drawing

off the French commander in another direction, no sooner presented himself

before the walls, than he was received with transports of joy by the

enthusiastic people. [20]

The French, however, though excluded from the city, by making a circuit

effected an entrance into the fortresses which commanded it. From these

posts, Montpensier sorely annoyed the town, making frequent attacks on it,

day and night, at the head of his gendarmerie, until they were at length

checked in every direction by barricades which the citizens hastily

constructed with wagons, casks of stones, bags of sand, and whatever came

most readily to hand. At the same time, the windows, balconies, and house-

tops were crowded with combatants, who poured down such a deadly shower of

missiles on the heads of the French as finally compelled them to take

shelter in their defences. Montpensier was now closely besieged, till at

length, reduced by famine, he was compelled to capitulate. Before the term

prescribed for his surrender had arrived, however, he effected his escape

at night, by water, to Salerno, at the head of twenty-five hundred men.

The remaining garrison, with the fortresses, submitted to the victorious

Ferdinand, the beginning of the following year. And thus, by one of those

sudden turns which belong to the game of war, the exiled prince, whose

fortunes a few weeks before appeared perfectly desperate, was again

established in the palace of his ancestors. [21]

Montpensier did not long remain in his new quarters. He saw the necessity

of immediate action, to counteract the alarming progress of the enemy. He

quitted Salerno before the end of winter, strengthening his army by such

reinforcements as he could collect from every quarter of the country. With

this body, he directed his course towards Apulia, with the intention of

bringing Ferdinand, who had already established his headquarters there, to

a decisive engagement. Ferdinand's force, however, was so far inferior to

that of his antagonist, as to compel him to act on the defensive, until he

had been reinforced by a considerable body of troops from Venice. The two

armies were then so equally matched, that neither cared to hazard all on

the fate of a battle; and the campaign wasted away in languid operations,

which led to no important result.

In the mean time, Gonsalvo de Cordova was slowly fighting his way up

through southern Calabria. The character of the country, rough and

mountainous, like the Alpuxarras, and thickly sprinkled with fortified

places, enabled him to bring into play the tactics which he had learned in

the war of Granada. He made little use of heavy-armed troops, relying on

his _ginetes_, and still more on his foot; taking care, however, to

avoid any direct encounter with the dreaded Swiss battalions. He made

amends for paucity of numbers and want of real strength, by rapidity of

movement and the wily tactics of Moorish warfare; darting on the enemy

where least expected, surprising his strong-holds at dead of night,

entangling him in ambuscades, and desolating the country with those

terrible forays, whose effects he had so often witnessed on the fair vegas

of Granada. He adopted the policy practised by his master Ferdinand the

Catholic in the Moorish war, lenient to the submissive foe, but wreaking

terrible vengeance on such as resisted. [22]

The French were sorely disconcerted by these irregular operations, so

unlike anything to which they were accustomed in European warfare. They

were further disheartened by the continued illness of D'Aubigny, and by

the growing disaffection of the Calabrians, who in the southern provinces

contiguous to Sicily were particularly well inclined to Spain.

Gonsalvo, availing himself of these friendly dispositions, pushed forward

his successes, carrying one strong-hold after another, until by the end of

the year he had overrun the whole of Lower Calabria. His progress would

have been still more rapid but for the serious embarrassments which he

experienced from want of supplies. He had received some reinforcements

from Sicily, but very few from Spain; while the boasted Galician levies,

instead of fifteen hundred, had dwindled to scarcely three hundred men;

who arrived in the most miserable plight, destitute of clothing and

munitions of every kind. He was compelled to weaken still further his

inadequate force by garrisoning the conquered places, most of which,

however, he was obliged to leave without any defence at all. In addition

to this, he was so destitute of the necessary funds for the payment of his

troops, that he was detained nearly two months at Nicastro, until

February, 1496, when he received a remittance from Spain. After this, he

resumed operations with such vigor, that by the end of the following

spring he had reduced all Upper Calabria, with the exception of a small

corner of the province, in which D'Aubigny still maintained himself. At

this crisis, he was summoned from the scene of his conquests to the

support of the king of Naples, who lay encamped before Atella, a town

intrenched among the Apennines, on the western borders of the Basilicate.

[23] The campaign of the preceding winter had terminated without any

decisive results, the two armies of Montpensier and King Ferdinand having

continued in sight of each other, without ever coming to action. These

protracted operations were fatal to the French. Their few supplies were

intercepted by the peasantry of the country; their Swiss and German

mercenaries mutinied and deserted for want of pay; and the Neapolitans in

their service went off in great numbers, disgusted with the insolent and

overbearing manners of their new allies. Charles the Eighth, in the mean

while, was wasting his hours and health in the usual round of profligate

pleasures. From the moment of recrossing the Alps he seemed to have shut

out Italy from his thoughts. He was equally insensible to the

supplications of the few Italians at his court, and the remonstrances of

his French nobles, many of whom, although opposed to the first expedition,

would willingly have undertaken a second to support their brave comrades,

whom the heedless young monarch now abandoned to their fate. [24]

At length Montpensier, finding no prospect of relief from home, and

straitened by the want of provisions, determined to draw off from the

neighborhood of Benevento, where the two armies lay encamped, and retreat

to the fruitful province of Apulia, whose principal places were still

garrisoned by the French. He broke up his camp secretly at dead of night,

and gained a day's march on his enemy, before the latter began his

pursuit. This Ferdinand pushed with such vigor, however, that he overtook

the retreating army at the town of Atella, and completely intercepted its

further progress. This town, which, as already noticed, is situated on,

the western skirts of the Basilicate, lies in a broad valley encompassed

by a lofty amphitheatre of hills, through which flows a little river,

tributary to the Ofanto, watering the town, and turning several mills

which supplied it with flour. At a few miles' distance was the strong

place of Ripa Candida, garrisoned by the French, through which Montpensier

hoped to maintain his communications with the fertile regions of the

interior.

Ferdinand, desirous if possible to bring the war to a close, by the

capture of the whole French army, prepared for a vigorous blockade. He

disposed his forces so as to intercept supplies by commanding the avenues

to the town in every direction. He soon found, however, that his army,

though considerably stronger than his rival's, was incompetent to this

without further aid. He accordingly resolved to summon to his support

Gonsalvo de Cordova, the fame of whose exploits now resounded through

every part of the kingdom. [25]

The Spanish general received Ferdinand's summons while encamped with his

army at Castrovillari, in the north of Upper Calabria. If he complied with

it, he saw himself in danger of losing all the fruits of his long campaign

of victories; for his active enemy would not fail to profit by his absence

to repair his losses. If he refused obedience, however, it might defeat

the most favorable opportunity which had yet presented itself for bringing

the war to a close. He resolved, therefore, at once to quit the field of

his triumphs, and march to King Ferdinand's relief. But, before his

departure, he prepared to strike such a blow as should, if possible,

incapacitate his enemy for any effectual movement during his absence.

He received intelligence that a considerable number of Angevin lords,

mostly of the powerful house of San Severino, with their vassals and a

reinforcement of French troops, were assembled at the little town of

Laino, on the northwestern borders of Upper Calabria; where they lay

awaiting a junction with D'Aubigny. Gonsalvo determined to surprise this

place, and capture the rich spoils which it contained, before his

departure. His road lay through a wild and mountainous country. The passes

were occupied by the Calabrian peasantry in the interest of the Angevin

party. The Spanish general, however, found no difficulty in forcing a way

through this undisciplined rabble, a large body of whom he surrounded and

cut to pieces, as they lay in ambush for him in the valley of Murano.

Laino, whose base is washed by the waters of the Lao, was defended by a

strong castle built on the opposite side of the river, and connected by a

bridge with the town. All approach to the place by the high road was

commanded by this fortress. Gonsalvo obviated this difficulty, however, by

a circuitous route across the mountains. He marched all night, and,

fording the waters of the Lao about two miles above the town, entered it

with his little army before break of day, having previously detached a

small corps to take possession of the bridge. The inhabitants, startled

from their slumbers by the unexpected appearance of the enemy in their

streets, hastily seized their arms and made for the castle on the other

side of the river. The pass, however, was occupied by the Spaniards; and

the Neapolitans and French, hemmed in on every side, began a desperate

resistance, which terminated with the death of their chief, Americo San

Severino, and the capture of such of his followers as did not fall in the

mêlée. A rich booty fell into the hands of the victors. The most glorious

prize, however, was the Angevin barons, twenty in number, whom Gonsalvo,

after the action, sent prisoners to Naples. This decisive blow, whose

tidings spread like wildfire throughout the country, settled the fate of

Calabria. It struck terror into the hearts of the French, and crippled

them so far as to leave Gonsalvo little cause for anxiety during his

proposed absence. [26]

The Spanish general lost no time in pressing forward on his march towards

Atella. Before quitting Calabria he had received a reinforcement of five

hundred soldiers from Spain, and his whole Spanish forces, according to

Giovio, amounted to one hundred men-at-arms, five hundred light cavalry,

and two thousand foot, picked men, and well schooled in the hardy service

of the late campaign. [27] Although a great part of his march lay through

a hostile country, he encountered little opposition; for the terror of his

name, says the writer last quoted, had everywhere gone before him. He

arrived before Atella at the beginning of July. The king of Naples was no

sooner advised of his approach, than he marched out of camp, attended by

the Venetian general, the marquis of Mantua, and the papal legate, Caesar

Borgia, to receive him. All were eager to do honor to the man who had

achieved such brilliant exploits; who, in less than a year, had made

himself master of the larger part of the kingdom of Naples, and that, with

the most limited resources, in defiance of the bravest and best

disciplined soldiery in Europe. It was then, according to the Spanish

writers, that he was by general consent greeted with the title of the

Great Captain; by which he is much more familiarly known in Spanish, and,

it may be added, in most histories of the period, than by his own name.

[28]

Gonsalvo found the French sorely distressed by the blockade, which was so

strictly maintained as to allow few supplies from abroad to pass into the

town. His quick eye discovered at once, however, that in order to render

it perfectly effectual, it would be necessary to destroy the mills in the

vicinity, which supplied Atella with flour. He undertook this, on the day

of his arrival, at the head of his own corps. Montpensier, aware of the

importance of these mills, had stationed a strong guard for their defence,

consisting of a body of Gascon archers, and the Swiss pikemen. Although

the Spaniards had never been brought into direct collision with any large

masses of this formidable infantry, yet occasional rencontres with small

detachments, and increased familiarity with its tactics, had stripped it

of much of its terrors. Gonsalvo had even so far profited by the example

of the Swiss, as to strengthen his infantry by mingling the long pikes,

with the short swords and bucklers of the Spaniards. [29]

He made two divisions of his cavalry, posting his handful of heavy-armed,

with some of the light horse, so as to check any sally from the town,

while he destined the remainder to support the infantry in the attack upon

the enemy. Having made these arrangements, the Spanish chieftain led on

his men confidently to the charge. The Gascon archery, however, seized

with a panic, scarcely awaited his approach, but fled shamefully, before

they had time to discharge a second volley of arrows, leaving the battle

to the Swiss. These latter, exhausted by the sufferings of the siege, and

dispirited by long reverses, and by the presence of a new and victorious

foe, did not behave with their wonted intrepidity, but, after a feeble

resistance, abandoned their position, and retreated towards the city.

Gonsalvo, having gained his object, did not care to pursue the fugitives,

but instantly set about demolishing the mills, every vestige of which, in

a few hours, was swept from the ground. Three days after, he supported the

Neapolitan troops in an assault on Ripa Candida, and carried that

important post, by means of which Atella maintained a communication with

the interior. [30]

Thus cut off from all their resources, and no longer cheered by hopes of

succor from their own country, the French, after suffering the severest

privations, and being reduced to the most loathsome aliment for

subsistence, made overtures for a capitulation. The terms were soon

arranged with the king of Naples, who had no desire but to rid his country

of the invaders. It was agreed, that, if the French commander did not

receive assistance in thirty days, he should evacuate Atella, and cause

every place holding under him in the kingdom of Naples, with all its

artillery, to be surrendered to King Ferdinand; and that, on these

conditions, his soldiers should be furnished with vessels to transport

them back to France; that the foreign mercenaries should be permitted to

return to their own homes; and that a general amnesty should be extended

to such Neapolitans as returned to their allegiance in fifteen days. [31]

Such were the articles of capitulation, signed on the 21st of July, 1496,

which Comines, who received the tidings at the court of France, does not

hesitate to denounce as "a most disgraceful treaty, without parallel, save

in that made by the Roman consuls at the Caudine Forks, which was too

dishonorable to be sanctioned by their countrymen." The reproach is

certainly unmerited; and comes with ill grace from a court, which was

wasting in riotous indulgence the very resources indispensable to the

brave and loyal subjects, who were endeavoring to maintain its honor in a

foreign land. [32]

Unfortunately, Montpensier was unable to enforce the full performance of

his own treaty; as many of the French refused to deliver up the places

intrusted to them, under the pretence that their authority was derived,

not from the viceroy, but from the king himself. During the discussion of

this point, the French troops were removed to Baia and Pozzuolo, and the

adjacent places on the coast. The unhealthiness of the situation, together

with that of the autumnal season, and an intemperate indulgence in fruits

and wine, soon brought on an epidemic among the soldiers, which swept them

off in great numbers. The gallant Montpensier was one of the first

victims. He refused the earnest solicitations of his brother-in-law, the

marquis of Mantua, to quit his unfortunate companions, and retire to a

place of safety in the interior. The shore was literally strewed with the

bodies of the dying and the dead. Of the whole number of Frenchmen,

amounting to not less than five thousand, who marched out of Atella, not

more than five hundred ever reached their native country. The Swiss and

other mercenaries were scarcely more fortunate. "They made their way back

as they could through Italy," says a writer of the period, "in the most

deplorable state of destitution and suffering, the gaze of all, and a sad

example of the caprice of fortune." [33] Such was the miserable fate of

that brilliant and formidable array, which scarcely two years before had

poured down on the fair fields of Italy in all the insolence of expected

conquest. Well would it be, if the name of every conqueror, whose

successes, though built on human misery, are so dazzling to the

imagination, could be made to point a moral for the instruction of his

species, as effectually as that of Charles the Eighth.

The young king of Naples did not live long to enjoy his triumphs. On his

return from Atella, he contracted an inauspicious marriage with his aunt,

a lady nearly of his own age, to whom he had been long attached. A

careless and somewhat intemperate indulgence in pleasure, succeeding the

hardy life which he had been lately leading, brought on a flux which

carried him off in the twenty-eighth year of his age, and second of his

reign. He was the fifth monarch, who, in the brief compass of three years,

had sat on the disastrous throne of Naples.

Ferdinand possessed many qualities suited to the turbulent times in which

he lived. He was vigorous and prompt in action, and naturally of a high

and generous spirit. Still, however, he exhibited glimpses, even in his

last hours, of an obliquity, not to say ferocity of temper, which

characterized many of his line, and which led to ominous conjectures as to

what would have been his future policy. [34]

He was succeeded on the throne by his uncle Frederic, a prince of gentle

disposition, endeared to the Neapolitans by repeated acts of benevolence,

and by a magnanimous regard for justice, of which the remarkable

fluctuations of his fortune had elicited more than one example. His

amiable virtues, however, required a kindlier soil and season for their

expansion; and, as the event proved, made him no match for the subtile and

unscrupulous politicians of the age.

His first act was a general amnesty to the disaffected Neapolitans, who

felt such confidence in his good faith, that they returned, with scarcely

an exception, to their allegiance. His next measure was to request the aid

of Gonsalvo de Cordova in suppressing the hostile movements made by the

French during his absence from Calabria. At the name of the Great Captain,

the Italians flocked from all quarters, to serve without pay under a

banner which was sure to lead them to victory. Tower and town, as he

advanced, went down before him; and the French general, D'Aubigny, soon

saw himself reduced to the necessity of making the best terms he could

with his conqueror, and evacuating the province altogether. The submission

of Calabria was speedily followed by that of the few remaining cities in

other quarters, still garrisoned by the French; comprehending the last

rood of territory possessed by Charles the Eighth in the kingdom of

Naples. [35]

* * * * *

Our narrative now leads us on the beaten track of Italian history. I have

endeavored to make the reader acquainted with the peculiar character and

pretensions of the principal Spanish authorities, on whom I have relied in

the progress of the work. This would be superfluous in regard to the

Italian, who enjoy the rank of classics, not only in their own country,

but throughout Europe, and have furnished the earliest models among the

moderns of historic composition. Fortunately, two of the most eminent of

them, Guicciardini and Paolo Giovio, lived at the period of our narrative,

and have embraced the whole extent of it in their histories. These two

writers, besides the attractions of elegant scholarship, and talent,

occupied a position which enabled them to take a clear view of all the

principal political movements of their age; circumstances, which have made

their accounts of infinite value in respect to foreign transactions, as

well as domestic. Guicciardini was a conspicuous actor in the scenes he

describes; and a long residence at the court of Ferdinand the Catholic

opened to him the most authentic sources of information in regard to

Spain. Giovio, from his intimate relations with the principal persons of

his time, had also access to the best sources of knowledge, while in the

notice of foreign transactions he was but little exposed to those venal

influences, which led him too often to employ the golden or iron pen of

history as interest dictated. Unfortunately, a lamentable hiatus occurs in

his greatest work, "Historiae sui Temporis," embracing the whole period

intervening between the end of Charles VIII.'s expedition and the

accession of Leo X., in 1513. At the time of the memorable sack of Rome by

the duke of Bourbon, in 1527, Giovio deposited his manuscript, with a

quantity of plate, in an iron chest, which he hid in an obscure corner of

the church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva. The treasure, however, did not

escape the searching eyes of two Spanish soldiers, who broke open the

chest, and one of them seized on the plate, regarding the papers as of no

value. The other, not being quite such a fool, says Giovio, preserved such

of the manuscripts as were on vellum, and ornamented with rich bindings,

but threw away what was written on paper.

The part thus thrown away contained six books, relating to the period

above mentioned, which were never afterwards recovered. The soldier

brought the remainder to their author, who bought them at the price of a

vacant benefice, which he persuaded the pope to confer on the freebooter,

in his native land of Cordova. It is not often that simony has found so

good an apology. The deficiency, although never repaired by Giovio, was in

some degree supplied by his biographies of eminent men, and, among others,

by that of Gonsalvo de Cordova, in which he has collected with great

industry all the events of any interest in the life of this great

commander. The narrative is in general corroborated by the Spanish

authorities, and contains some additional particulars, especially

respecting his early life, which Giovio's personal intimacy with the

principal characters of the period might easily have furnished.

This portion of our story is, moreover, illustrated by the labors of M.

Sismondi, in his "Républiques Italiennes," which may undoubtedly claim to

be ranked among the most remarkable historical achievements of our time;

whether we consider the dexterous management of the narrative, or the

admirable spirit of philosophy by which it is illumined. It must be

admitted, that he has perfectly succeeded in unravelling the intricate web

of Italian politics; and, notwithstanding the complicated, and, indeed,

motley character of his subject, the historian has left a uniform and

harmonious impression on the mind of the reader. This he has accomplished,

by keeping constantly in view the principle which regulated all the

various movements of the complex machinery; so that his narrative becomes,

what he terms it in his English abridgment, a history of Italian liberty.

By keeping this principle steadily before him, he has been able to solve

much that hitherto was dark and problematical in his subject; and if he

has occasionally sacrificed something to theory, he has, on the whole,

pursued the investigation in a truly philosophical manner, and arrived at

results the most honorable and cheering to humanity. Fortunately, his own

mind was deeply penetrated with reverence for the free institutions which

he has analyzed. If it is too much to say that the historian of republics

should be himself a republican, it is at least true that his soul should

be penetrated to its very depths with the spirit which animates them. No

one, who is not smitten with the love of freedom, can furnish the key to

much that is enigmatical in her character, and reconcile his readers to

the harsh and repulsive features that she sometimes wears, by revealing

the beauty and grandeur of the soul within.

That portion of our narrative which is incorporated with Italian story is

too small to occupy much space on Sismondi's plan. He has discussed it,

moreover, in a manner not very favorable to the Spaniards, whom he seems

to have regarded with somewhat of the aversion with which an Italian of

the sixteenth century viewed the ultramontane barbarians of Europe.

Perhaps the reader may find some advantage in contemplating another side

of the picture, and studying the less familiar details presented by the

Spanish authorities.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 7, chap. 17.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom.

iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.--Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2.

[2] Bernaldez, Reyes Católicos, MS., cap. 140-143.

[3] Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.

According to Giannone, (Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2,) he did obtain

the investiture from the pope; but this statement is contradicted by

several, and confirmed by none, of the authorities I have consulted.

[4] Brantôme, Hommes Illustres, Oeuvres, tom. ii. pp. 3-5.--Comines,

Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 2.

The particulars of the coronation are recorded with punctilious precision

by André de la Vigne, secretary of Queen Anne. (Hist. de Charles VIII., p.

201.) Daru has confounded this farce with Charles's original entry into

Naples in February. Hist. de Venise, tom. iii. liv. 20, p. 247.

[5] Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, Collection de Mémoires, tom. xiv.

pp. 262, 263.--Flassan, Diplomatie Française, tom. i. pp. 267-269.--

Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 10-12, 18.

[6] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 1.--Brantôme, Hommes Illustres, tom.

ii. p. 59.

[7] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.--Giovio, Vita Magni

Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 204, 205.

[8] Pulgar, Sumario de las Hazañas del Gran Capitan, (Madrid, 1834,) p.

145.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 205 et seq.

[9] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 90.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi,

lib. 1, pp. 211, 212.--Conde, Dominacion de los Arabes, tom. iii. cap.

42.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. pp. 207-216.--Pulgar, Sumario,

p. 193.

Florian has given circulation to a popular error by his romance of

"Gonsalve de Cordone," where the young warrior is made to play a part he

is by no means entitled to, as hero of the Granadine war. Graver writers,

who cannot lawfully plead the privilege of romancing, have committed the

same error. See, among others, Varillas, Politique de Ferdinand, p. 3.

[10] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 214.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan

Gonzalo Hernandez de Cordova y Aguilar, (Alcalá de Henares, 1584,) cap.

23.

Another example of his gallantry occurred during the Granadine war, when

the fire of Santa Fe had consumed the royal tent, with the greater part of

the queen's apparel and other valuable effects. Gonsalvo, on learning the

disaster, at his castle of Illora, supplied the queen so abundantly from

the magnificent wardrobe of his wife Doña Maria Manrique, as led Isabella

pleasantly to remark, that, "the fire had done more execution in his

quarters, than in her own." Pulgar, Sumario, p. 187.

[11] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 214.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap.

23.

[12] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7, 24.--Quintana,

Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 222.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, ubi supra.

Giovio, in his biography of Gonsalvo, estimates these forces at 5000 foot

and 600 horse, which last in his History he raises to 700. I have followed

Zurita, as presenting the more probable statement, and as generally more

accurate in all that relates to his own nation. It is a hopeless task to

attempt to reconcile the manifold inaccuracies, contradictions, and

discrepancies, which perplex the narratives of the writers on both sides,

in everything relating to numerical estimates. The difficulty is greatly

increased by the extremely vague application of the term _lance_, as

we meet with it, including six, four, three, or even a less number of

followers, as the case might be.

[13] Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 10.--Zurita, Hist.

del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.

The occupation of these places by Gonsalvo excited the pope's jealousy, as

to the designs of the Spanish sovereigns. In consequence of his

remonstrances, the Castilian envoy, Garcilasso de la Vega, was instructed

to direct Gonsalvo, that, "in case any inferior places had been since put

into his hands, he should restore them; if they were of importance,

however, he was first to confer with his own government." King Ferdinand,

as Abarca assures his readers, "was unwilling to give cause of complaint

to any one, _unless he were greatly a gainer by it_." Reyes de Aragon, rey

30, cap. 8.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. lib. 2, cap. 8.

[14] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, pp. 215-217.--Idem, Hist. sui Temporis,

pp. 83-85.--Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, pp. 160, 185.--Zurita, Hist.

del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 8.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, pp. 88,

92.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 25.

[15] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1.--Du Bos, Ligue de Cambray,

introd., p. 58.

[16] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.--Giovio, Vita Magni

Gonsalvi, ubi supra.

[17] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 216, 217.--Chrónica del Gran

Capitan, cap. 24.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. pp. 223-227.

[18] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 83-85.--Chrónica del Gran

Capitan, cap. 24.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.--

Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, p. 112.--Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib.

19, p. 690.

[19] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 1, p. 112.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis,

lib. 3, p. 85.--Lanuza, Historias, tom. i. lib. 1, cap. 7.

[20] Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. vi. p. 519.--Guicciardini, Istoria,

lib. 2, pp. 113, 114.--Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 87, 88.--

Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, Collection des Mémoires, tom. xiv. pp.

264, 265.

[21] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 88-90, 114-119.--

Guicciardini, Istoria, lib, 2, pp. 114-117.--Summonte, Hist. di Napoli,

tom. vi. pp. 520, 521.

[22] Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, pp. 173, 174.--Chrónica del Gran

Capitan, cap. 26.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 218.--

Villeneuve, Mémoires, p. 313.--Sismondi, Républiques Italiennes, tom. xii.

p. 386.

[23] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 11, 20.--Guicciardini,

Istoria, lib. 2, p. 140.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 219,

220.--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 25, 26.

[24] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, pp. 140, 157, 158.--Comines, Mémoires,

liv. 8, chap. 23, 24.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 183.

Du Bos discriminates between the character of the German levies or

landsknechts and the Swiss, in the following terms. "Les lansquenets

étoient même de beaucoup mieux faits, _généralement_ parlant, et de

bien meilleure mine sous les armes, que les fantassins Suisses; mais ils

étoient incapables de discipline. Au contraire des Suisses, ils étoient

sans obéissance pour leur chefs, et sans amitié pours leurs camarades."

(Ligue de Cambray, tom. i. dissert. prélim., p. 66.) Comines confirms the

distinction with a high tribute to the loyalty of the Swiss, which has

continued their honorable characteristic to the present day. Mémoires,

liv. 8, chap. 21.

[25] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 218, 219.--Chrónica del Gran

Capitan, cap. 28.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 226.--Bembo,

Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, p. 184.--Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 158.

[26] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, pp. 219, 220.--Chrónica del Gran

Capitan, cap. 27.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. i. lib. 2, cap.

26.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. pp. 227, 228.--Guicciardini,

Istoria, lib. 3, pp. 158, 159.--Mariana, Hist. de España, tom. ii. lib.

26, cap. 12.

[27] Giovio, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 4, p. 132.

[28] Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom. i. p. 228.--Giovio, Vita Magni

Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 220.

The Aragonese historians are much ruffled by the irreverent manner in

which Guicciardini notices the origin of the cognomen of the Great

Captain; which even his subsequent panegyric cannot atone for. "Era

capitano Gonsalvo Ernandes, di casa d'Aghilar, di patria Cordovese, uomo

di molto valore, ed esercitato lungamente nelle guerre di Granata, il

quale nel principio della venuta sua in Italia, cognominato _dalla

jattanza Spagnuola_ il Gran Capitano, per significare con questo titolo

la suprema podestà sopra loro, meritò per le preclare vittorie che ebbe

dipoi, che per consentimento universale gli fosse confermato e perpetuate

questo sopranome, per significazione di virtù grande, e di grande

eccellenza nella disciplina militare." (Istoria, tom. i. p. 112.)

According to Zurita, the title was not conferred till the Spanish

general's appearance before Atella, and the first example of its formal

recognition was in the instrument of capitulation at that place. (Hist.

del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 27.) This seems to derive support from the

fact that Gonsalvo's biographer and contemporary, Giovio, begins to

distinguish him by that epithet from this period. Abarca assigns a higher

antiquity to it, quoting the words of the royal grant of the duchy of

Sessa, made to Gonsalvo, as authority. (Reyes de Aragon, rey 39, cap. 9.)

In a former edition, I intimated my doubt of the historian's accuracy. A

subsequent inspection of the instrument itself, in a work since come into

my possession, shows this distrust to have been well founded; for it is

there simply said, that the title was conferred in Italy. Pulgar, Sumario,

p. 188.

[29] This was improving on the somewhat similar expedient ascribed by

Polybius to King Pyrrhus, who mingled alternate cohorts, armed with short

weapons after the Roman fashion, with those of his Macedonian spearmen.

Lib. 17 sec. 24.

[30] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 4, p. 133.--Idem, Vita Magni

Gonsalvi, pp. 220, 221.--Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 27.

--Chrónica del Gran Capitan, cap. 28.--Quintana, Españoles Célebres, tom.

i. p. 229.--Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 9.

[31] Villeneuve, Mémoires, p. 318.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.--

Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 4, p. 136.

[32] Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.

[33] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, p. 137.--Comines, Mémoires, liv. 8, chap.

21.--Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 221.--Guicciardini, Istoria,

lib. 3, p. 160.--Villeneuve, Mémoires, apud Petitot, tom. xiv. p. 318.

[34] Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2.--Summonte, Hist. di

Napoli, lib. 6, cap. 2.--Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 188.

While stretched on his death-bed, Ferdinand, according to Bembo, caused

the head of his prisoner, the Bishop of Teano, to be brought to him, and

laid at the foot of his couch, that he might be assured with his own eyes

of the execution of the sentence. Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, p. 189.