On the occasion of each new election to the papacy, it is the custom for
all the Christian States to send a solemn embassy to Rome, to renew
their oath of allegiance to the Holy Father. Ludovico Sforza conceived
the idea that the ambassadors of the four Powers should unite and make
their entry into Rome on the same day, appointing one of their envoy,
viz. the representative of the King of Naples, to be spokesman for all
four. Unluckily, this plan did not agree with the magnificent projects
of Piero dei Medici. That proud youth, who had been appointed ambassador
of the Florentine Republic, had seen in the mission entrusted to him by
his fellow-citizens the means of making a brilliant display of his own
wealth. From the day of his nomination onwards, his palace was
constantly filled with tailors, jewellers, and merchants of priceless
stuffs; magnificent clothes had been made for him, embroidered with
precious stones which he had selected from the family treasures. All his
jewels, perhaps the richest in Italy, were distributed about the
liveries of his pages, and one of them, his favourite, was to wear a
collar of pearls valued by itself at 100,000 ducats, or almost, a
million of our francs. In his party the Bishop of Arezzo, Gentile, who
had once been Lorenzo dei Medici’s tutor, was elected as second
ambassador, and it was his duty to speak. Now Gentile, who had prepared
his speech, counted on his eloquence to charm the ear quite as much as
Piero counted on his riches to dazzle the eye. But the eloquence of
Gentile would be lost completely if nobody was to speak but the
ambassador of the King of Naples; and the magnificence of Piero dei
Medici would never be noticed at all if he went to Rome mixed up with
all the other ambassadors. These two important interests, compromised by
the Duke of Milan’s proposition, changed the whole face of Italy.
Ludovico Sforza had already made sure of Ferdinand’s promise to conform
to the plan he had invented, when the old king, at the solicitation of
Piero, suddenly drew back. Sforza found out how this change had come
about, and learned that it was Piero’s influence that had overmastered
his own. He could not disentangle the real motives that had promised the
change, and imagined there was some secret league against himself: he
attributed the changed political programme to the death of Lorenzo dei
Medici. But whatever its cause might be, it was evidently prejudicial to
his own interests: Florence, Milan’s old ally, was abandoning her for
Naples. He resolved to throw a counter weight into the scales; so,
betraying to Alexander the policy of Piero and Ferdinand, he proposed to
form a defensive and offensive alliance with him and admit the republic
of Venice; Duke Hercules III of Ferrara was also to be summoned to
pronounce for one or other of the two leagues. Alexander VI, wounded by
Ferdinand’s treatment of himself, accepted Ludovico Sforza’s
proposition, and an Act of Confederation was signed on the 22nd of
April, 1493, by which the new allies pledged themselves to set on foot
for the maintenance of the public peace an army of 20,000 horse and
6,000 infantry.
Ferdinand was frightened when he beheld the formation of this league;
but he thought he could neutralise its effects by depriving Ludovico
Sforza of his regency, which he had already kept beyond the proper time,
though as yet he was not strictly an usurper. Although the young
Galeazzo, his nephew, had reached the age of two-and-twenty, Ludovico
Sforza none the less continued regent. Now Ferdinand definitely proposed
to the Duke of Milan that he should resign the sovereign power into the
hands of his nephew, on pain of being declared an usurper.
This was a bold stroke; but there was a risk of inciting Ludovico Sforza
to start one of those political plots that he was so familiar with,
never recoiling from any situation, however dangerous it might be. This
was exactly what happened: Sforza, uneasy about his duchy, resolved to
threaten Ferdinand’s kingdom.
Nothing could be easier: he knew the warlike nations of Charles VIII,
and the pretensions of the house of France to the kingdom of Naples. He
sent two ambassadors to invite the young king to claim the rights of
Anjou usurped by Aragon; and with a view to reconciling Charles to so
distant and hazardous an expedition, offered him a free and friendly
passage through his own States.
Such a proposition was welcome to Charles VIII, as we might suppose from
our knowledge of his character; a magnificent prospect was opened to him
as by an enchanter: what Ludovica Sforza was offering him was virtually
the command of the Mediterranean, the protectorship of the whole of
Italy; it was an open road, through Naples and Venice, that well might
lead to the conquest of Turkey or the Holy Land, if he ever had the
fancy to avenge the disasters of Nicapolis and Mansourah. So the
proposition was accepted, and a secret alliance was signed, with Count
Charles di Belgiojasa and the Count of Cajazza acting for Ludovica
Sforza, and the Bishop of St. Malo and Seneschal de Beaucaire for
Charles VIII. By this treaty it was agreed:—
That the King of France should attempt the conquest of the kingdom of
Naples;
That the Duke of Milan should grant a passage to the King of France
through his territories, and accompany him with five hundred lances;
That the Duke of Milan should permit the King of France to send out as
many ships of war as he pleased from Genoa;
Lastly, that the Duke of Milan should lend the King of France 200,000
ducats, payable when he started.
On his side, Charles VIII agreed:—
To defend the personal authority of Ludowico Sforza over the duchy of
Milan against anyone who might attempt to turn him out;
To keep two hundred French lances always in readiness to help the house
of Sforza, at Asti, a town belonging to the Duke of Orleans by the
inheritance of his mother, Valentina Visconti;
Lastly, to hand over to his ally the principality of Tarentum
immediately after the conquest of Naples was effected.
This treaty was scarcely concluded when Charles VIII, who exaggerated
its advantages, began to dream of freeing himself from every let or
hindrance to the expedition. Precautions were necessary; for his
relations with the great Powers were far from being what he could have
wished.
Indeed, Henry VII had disembarked at Calais with a formidable army, and
was threatening France with another invasion.
Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, if they had not assisted at the fall of
the house of Anjou, had at any rate helped the Aragon party with men and
money.
Lastly, the war with the emperor acquired a fresh impetus when Charles
VIII sent back Margaret of Burgundy to her father Maximilian, and
contracted a marriage with Anne of Brittany.
By the treaty of Etaples, on the 3rd of November, 1492, Henry VII
cancelled the alliance with the King of the Romans, and pledged himself
not to follow his conquests.
This cost Charles VIII 745,000 gold crowns and the expenses of the war
with England.
By the treaty of Barcelona, dated the 19th of January, 1493, Ferdinand
the Catholic and Isabella agreed never to grant aid to their cousin,
Ferdinand of Naples, and never to put obstacles in the way of the French
king in Italy.
This cost Charles VIII Perpignan, Roussillon, and the Cerdagne, which
had all been given to Louis XI as a hostage for the sum of 300,000
ducats by John of Aragon; but at the time agreed upon, Louis XI would
not give them up for the money, for the old fox knew very well how
important were these doors to the Pyrenees, and proposed in case of war
to keep them shut.
Lastly, by the treaty of Senlis, dated the 23rd of May, 1493, Maximilian
granted a gracious pardon to France for the insult her king had offered
him.
It cost Charles VIII the counties of Burgundy, Artois, Charalais, and
the seigniory of Noyers, which had come to him as Margaret’s dowry, and
also the towns of Aire, Hesdin, and Bethune, which he promised to
deliver up to Philip of Austria on the day he came of age.
By dint of all these sacrifices the young king made peace with his
neighbours, and could set on foot the enterprise that Ludavico Sforza
had proposed. We have already explained that the project came into
Sforza’s mind when his plan about the deputation was refused, and that
the refusal was due to Piero dei Medici’s desire to make an exhibition
of his magnificent jewels, and Gentile’s desire to make his speech.
Thus the vanity of a tutor and the pride of his scholar together
combined to agitate the civilized world from the Gulf of Tarentum to the
Pyrenees.
Alexander VI was in the very centre of the impending earthquake, and
before Italy had any idea that the earliest shocks were at hand he had
profited by the perturbed preoccupation of other people to give the lie
to that famous speech we have reported. He created cardinal John Borgia,
a nephew, who during the last pontificate had been elected Archbishop of
Montreal and Governor of Rome. This promotion caused no discontent,
because of John’s antecedents; and Alexander, encouraged by the success
of this, promised to Caesar Borgia the archbishopric of Valencia, a
benefice he had himself enjoyed before his elevation to the papacy. But
here the difficulty arose on the side of the recipient. The young man,
full-blooded, with all the vices and natural instincts of a captain of
condottieri, had very great trouble in assuming even the appearance of a
Churchman’s virtue; but as he knew from his own father’s mouth that the
highest secular dignities were reserved for his elder brother, he
decided to take what he could get, for fear of getting nothing; but his
hatred for Francesco grew stronger, for from henceforth he was doubly
his rival, both in love and ambition.
Suddenly Alexander beheld the old King Ferdinand returning to his side,
and at the very moment when he least expected it. The pope was too
clever a politician to accept a reconciliation without finding out the
cause of it; he soon learned what plots were hatching at the French
court against the kingdom of Naples, and the whole situation was
explained.
Now it was his turn to impose conditions.
He demanded the completion of a marriage between Goffreda, his third
son, and Dada Sancia, Alfonso’s illegitimate daughter.
He demanded that she should bring her husband as dowry the principality
of Squillace and the county of Cariati, with an income of 10,000 ducats
and the office of protonotary, one of the seven great crown offices
which are independent of royal control.
He demanded for his eldest son, whom Ferdinand the Catholic had just
made Duke of Gandia, the principality of Tricarico, the counties of
Chiaramonte, Lauria, and Carinola, an income of 12,000 ducats, and the
first of the seven great offices which should fall vacant.
He demanded that Virginio Orsini, his ambassador at the Neapolitan
court, should be given a third great office, viz. that of Constable, the
most important of them all.
Lastly, he demanded that Giuliano delta Rovere, one of the five
cardinals who had opposed his election and was now taking refuge at
Ostia, where the oak whence he took his name and bearings is still to be
seen carved on all the walls, should be driven out of that town, and the
town itself given over to him.
In exchange, he merely pledged himself never to withdraw from the house
of Aragon the investiture of the kingdom of Naples accorded by his
predecessors. Ferdinand was paying somewhat dearly for a simple promise;
but on the keeping of this promise the legitimacy of his power wholly
depended. For the kingdom of Naples was a fief of the Holy See; and to
the pope alone belonged the right of pronouncing on the justice of each
competitor’s pretensions; the continuance of this investiture was
therefore of the highest conceivable importance to Aragon just at the
time when Anjou was rising up with an army at her back to dispossess
her.
For a year after he mounted the papal throne, Alexander VI had made
great strides, as we see, in the extension of his temporal power. In his
own hands he held, to be sure, only the least in size of the Italian
territories; but by the marriage of his daughter Lucrezia with the lord
of Pesaro he was stretching out one hand as far as Venice, while by the
marriage of the Prince of Squillace with Dona Sancia, and the
territories conceded to the Duke of Sandia, he was touching with the
other hand the boundary of Calabria.
When this treaty, so advantageous for himself, was duly signed, he made
Caesar Cardinal of Santa Maria Novella, for Caesar was always
complaining of being left out in the distribution of his father’s
favours.
Only, as there was as yet no precedent in Church history for a bastard’s
donning the scarlet, the pope hunted up four false witnesses who
declared that Caesar was the son of Count Ferdinand of Castile; who was,
as we know, that valuable person Don Manuel Melchior, and who played the
father’s part with just as much solemnity as he had played the
husband’s.
The wedding of the two bastards was most splendid, rich with the double
pomp of Church and King. As the pope had settled that the young bridal
pair should live near him, Caesar Borgia, the new cardinal, undertook to
manage the ceremony of their entry into Rome and the reception, and
Lucrezia, who enjoyed at her father’s side an amount of favour hitherto
unheard of at the papal court, desired on her part to contribute all the
splendour she had it in her power to add. He therefore went to receive
the young people with a stately and magnificent escort of lords and
cardinals, while she awaited them attended by the loveliest and noblest
ladies of Rome, in one of the halls of the Vatican. A throne was there
prepared for the pope, and at his feet were cushions for Lucrezia and
Dona Sancia. "Thus," writes Tommaso Tommasi, "by the look of the
assembly and the sort of conversation that went on for hours, you would
suppose you were present at some magnificent and voluptuous royal
audience of ancient Assyria, rather than at the severe consistory of a
Roman pontiff, whose solemn duty it is to exhibit in every act the
sanctity of the name he bears. But," continues the same historian, "if
the Eve of Pentecost was spent in such worthy functions, the
celebrations of the coming of the Holy Ghost on the following day were
no less decorous and becoming to the spirit of the Church; for thus
writes the master of the ceremonies in his journal:
"’The pope made his entry into the Church of the Holy Apostles, and
beside him on the marble steps of the pulpit where the canons of St.
Peter are wont to chant the Epistle and Gospel, sat Lucrezia his
daughter and Sancia his son’s wife: round about them, a disgrace to the
Church and a public scandal, were grouped a number of other Roman ladies
far more fit to dwell in Messalina’s city than in St. Peter’s.’"
So at Rome and Naples did men slumber while ruin was at hand; so did
they waste their time and squander their money in a vain display of
pride; and this was going on while the French, thoroughly alive, were
busy laying hands upon the torches with which they would presently set
Italy on fire.
Indeed, the designs of Charles VIII for conquest were no longer for
anybody a matter of doubt. The young king had sent an embassy to the
various Italian States, composed of Perrone dei Baschi, Brigonnet,
d’Aubigny, and the president of the Provencal Parliament. The mission of
this embassy was to demand from the Italian princes their co-operation
in recovering the rights of the crown of Naples for the house of Anjou.
The embassy first approached the Venetians, demanding aid and counsel
for the king their master. But the Venetians, faithful to their
political tradition, which had gained for them the sobriquet of "the
Jews of Christendom," replied that they were not in a position to give
any aid to the young king, so long as they had to keep ceaselessly on
guard against the Turks; that, as to advice, it would be too great a
presumption in them to give advice to a prince who was surrounded by
such experienced generals and such able ministers.
Perrone dei Baschi, when he found he could get no other answer, next
made for Florence. Piero dei Medici received him at a grand council, for
he summoned on this occasion not only the seventy, but also the
gonfalonieri who had sat for the last thirty-four years in the Signoria.
The French ambassador put forward his proposal, that the republic should
permit their army to pass through her States, and pledge herself in that
case to supply for ready money all the necessary victual and fodder. The
magnificent republic replied that if Charles VIII had been marching
against the Turks instead of against Ferdinand, she would be only too
ready to grant everything he wished; but being bound to the house of
Aragon by a treaty, she could not betray her ally by yielding to the
demands of the King of France.
The ambassadors next turned their steps to Siena. The poor little
republic, terrified by the honour of being considered at all, replied
that it was her desire to preserve a strict neutrality, that she was too
weak to declare beforehand either for or against such mighty rivals, for
she would naturally be obliged to join the stronger party. Furnished
with this reply, which had at least the merit of frankness, the French
envoys proceeded to Rome, and were conducted into the pope’s presence,
where they demanded the investiture of the kingdom of Naples for their
king.
Alexander VI replied that, as his predecessors had granted this
investiture to the house of Aragon, he could not take it away, unless it
were first established that the house of Anjou had a better claim than
the house that was to be dispossessed. Then he represented to Perrone
dei Baschi that, as Naples was a fief of the Holy See, to the pope alone
the choice of her sovereign properly belonged, and that in consequence
to attack the reigning sovereign was to attack the Church itself.
The result of the embassy, we see, was not very promising for Charles
VIII; so he resolved to rely on his ally Ludovico Sforza alone, and to
relegate all other questions to the fortunes of war.
A piece of news that reached him about this time strengthened him in
this resolution: this was the death of Ferdinand. The old king had
caught a severe cold and cough on his return from the hunting field, and
in two days he was at his last gasp. On the 25th of January, 1494, he
passed away, at the age of seventy, after a thirty-six years’ reign,
leaving the throne to his elder son, Alfonso, who was immediately chosen
as his successor.
Ferdinand never belied his title of "the happy ruler." His death
occurred at the very moment when the fortune of his family was changing.
The new king, Alfonso, was not a novice in arms: he had already fought
successfully against Florence and Venice, and had driven the Turks out
of Otranto; besides, he had the name of being as cunning as his father
in the tortuous game of politics so much in vogue at the Italian courts.
He did not despair of counting among his allies the very enemy he was at
war with when Charles VIII first put forward his pretensions, we mean
Bajazet II. So he despatched to Bajazet one of his confidential
ministers, Camillo Pandone, to give the Turkish emperor to understand
that the expedition to Italy was to the King of France nothing but a
blind for approaching the scene of Mahomedan conquests, and that if
Charles VIII were once at the Adriatic it would only take him a day or
two to get across and attack Macedonia; from there he could easily go by
land to Constantinople. Consequently he suggested that Bajazet for the
maintenance of their common interests should supply six thousand horse
and six thousand infantry; he himself would furnish their pay so long as
they were in Italy. It was settled that Pandone should be joined at
Tarentum by Giorgia Bucciarda, Alexander VI’s envoy, who was
commissioned by the pope to engage the Turks to help him against the
Christians. But while he was waiting for Bajazet’s reply, which might
involve a delay of several months, Alfonso requested that a meeting
might take place between Piero dei Medici, the pope, and himself, to
take counsel together about important affairs. This meeting was arranged
at Vicovaro, near Tivoli, and the three interested parties duly met on
the appointed day.
The intention of Alfonso, who before leaving Naples had settled the
disposition of his naval forces, and given his brother Frederic the
command of a fleet that consisted of thirty-six galleys, eighteen large
and twelve small vessels, with injunctions to wait at Livorno and keep a
watch on the fleet Charles VIII was getting ready at the port of Genoa,
was above all things to check with the aid of his allies the progress of
operations on land. Without counting the contingent he expected his
allies to furnish, he had at his immediate disposal a hundred squadrons
of heavy cavalry, twenty men in each, and three thousand bowmen and
light horse. He proposed, therefore, to advance at once into Lombardy,
to get up a revolution in favour of his nephew Galeazzo, and to drive
Ludovico Sforza out of Milan before he could get help from France; so
that Charles VIII, at the very time of crossing the Alps, would find an
enemy to fight instead of a friend who had promised him a safe passage,
men, and money.
This was the scheme of a great politician and a bold commander; but as
everybody had come in pursuit of his own interests, regardless of the
common this plan was very coldly received by Piero dei Medici, who was
afraid lest in the war he should play only the same poor part he had
been threatened with in the affair of the embassy; by Alexander VI it
was rejected, because he reckoned on employing the troops of Alfonso on
his own account. He reminded the King of Naples of one of the conditions
of the investiture he had promised him, viz. that he should drive out
the Cardinal Giuliano delta Rovere from the town of Ostia, and give up
the town to him, according to the stipulation already agreed upon.
Besides, the advantages that had accrued to Virginio Orsini, Alexander’s
favourite, from his embassy to Naples had brought upon him the ill-will
of Prospero and Fabrizio Colonna, who owned nearly all the villages
round about Rome. Now the pope could not endure to live in the midst of
such powerful enemies, and the most important matter was to deliver him
from all of them, seeing that it was really of moment that he should be
at peace who was the head and soul of the league whereof the others were
only the body and limbs.
Although Alfonso had clearly seen through the motives of Piero’s
coldness, and Alexander had not even given him the trouble of seeking
his, he was none the less obliged to bow to the will of his allies,
leaving the one to defend the Apennines against the French, and helping
the other to shake himself free of his neighbours in the Romagna.
Consequently he, pressed on the siege of Ostia, and added to Virginio’s
forces, which already amounted to two hundred men of the papal army, a
body of his own light horse; this little army was to be stationed round
about Rome, and was to enforce obedience from the Colonnas. The rest of
his troops Alfonso divided into two parties: one he left in the hands of
his son Ferdinand, with orders to scour the Romagna and worry, the petty
princes into levying and supporting the contingent they had promised,
while with the other he himself defended the defiles of the Abruzzi.
On the 23rd of April, at three o’clock in the morning, Alexander VI was
freed from the first and fiercest of his foes; Giuliano delta Rovere,
seeing the impossibility of holding out any longer against Alfonso’s
troops, embarked on a brigantine which was to carry him to Savona.
From that day forward Virginio Orsini began that famous partisan warfare
which reduced the country about Rome to the most pathetic desolation the
world has ever seen. During all this time Charles VIII was at Lyons, not
only uncertain as to the route he ought to take for getting into Italy,
but even beginning to reflect a little on the chances and risks of such
an expedition. He had found no sympathy anywhere except with Ludovico
Sforza; so it appeared not unlikely that he would have to fight not the
kingdom of Naples alone, but the whole of Italy to boot. In his
preparations for war he had spent almost all the money at his disposal;
the Lady of Beaujeu and the Duke of Bourbon both condemned his
enterprise; Briconnet, who had advised it, did not venture to support it
now; at last Charles, more irresolute than ever, had recalled several
regiments that had actually started, when Cardinal Giuliano delta
Rovere, driven out of Italy by the pope, arrived at Lyons, and presented
himself before the king.
The cardinal, full of hatred, full of hope, hastened to Charles, and
found him on the point of abandoning that enterprise on which, as
Alexander’s enemy, delta Rovere rested his whole expectation of
vengeance. He informed Charles of the quarrelling among his enemies; he
showed him that each of them was seeking his own ends—Piero dei Medici
the gratification of his pride, the pope the aggrandisement of his
house. He pointed out that armed fleets were in the ports of
Villefranche, Marseilles, and Genoa, and that these armaments would be
lost; he reminded him that he had sent Pierre d’Urfe, his grand equerry,
on in advance, to have splendid accommodation prepared in the Spinola
and Doria palaces. Lastly, he urged that ridicule and disgrace would
fall on him from every side if he renounced an enterprise so loudly
vaunted beforehand, for whose successful execution, moreover, he had
been obliged to sign three treaties of peace that were all vexatious
enough, viz. with Henry VII, with Maximilian, and with Ferdinand the
Catholic. Giuliano della Rovere had exercised true insight in probing
the vanity of the young king, and Charles did not hesitate for a single
moment. He ordered his cousin, the Duke of Orleans (who later on became
Louis XII) to take command of the French fleet and bring it to Genoa; he
despatched a courier to Antoine de Bessay, Baron de Tricastel, bidding
him take to Asti the 2000 Swiss foot-soldiers he had levied in the
cantons; lastly, he started himself from Vienne, in Dauphine, on the
23rd of August, 1494, crossed the Alps by Mont Genevre, without
encountering a single body of troops to dispute his passage, descended
into Piedmont and Monferrato, both just then governed by women regents,
the sovereigns of both principalities being children, Charles John Aime
and William John, aged respectively six and eight.
The two regents appeared before Charles VIII, one at Turin, one at
Casale, each at the head of a numerous and brilliant court, and both
glittering with jewels and precious stones. Charles, although he quite
well knew that for all these friendly demonstrations they were both
bound by treaty to his enemy, Alfonso of Naples, treated them all the
same with the greatest politeness, and when they made protestations of
friendship, asked them to let him have a proof of it, suggesting that
they should lend him the diamonds they were covered with. The two
regents could do no less than obey the invitation which was really a
command. They took off necklaces, rings, and earrings. Charles VIII gave
them a receipt accurately drawn up, and pledged the jewels for 20,000
ducats. Then, enriched by this money, he resumed his journey and made
his way towards Asti. The Duke of Orleans held the sovereignty of Asti,
as we said before, and hither came to meet Charles both Ludovico Sforza
and his father-in-law, Hercules d’Este, Duke of Ferrara. They brought
with them not only the promised troops and money, but also a court
composed of the loveliest women in Italy.
The balls, fetes, and tourneys began with a magnificence surpassing
anything that Italy had ever seen before. But suddenly they were
interrupted by the king’s illness. This was the first example in Italy
of the disease brought by Christopher Columbus from the New World, and
was called by Italians the French, by Frenchmen the Italian disease. The
probability is that some of Columbus’s crew who were at Genoa or
thereabouts had already brought over this strange and cruel complaint
that counter balanced the gains of the American gold-mines.
The king’s indisposition, however, did not prove so grave as was at
first supposed. He was cured by the end of a few weeks, and proceeded on
his way towards Pavia, where the young Duke John Galeazzo lay dying. He
and the King of France were first cousins, sons of two sisters of the
house of Savoy. So Charles VIII was obliged to see him, and went to
visit him in the castle where he lived more like prisoner than lord. He
found him half reclining on a couch, pale and emaciated, some said in
consequence of luxurious living, others from the effects of a slow but
deadly poison. But whether or not the poor young man was desirous of
pouring out a complaint to Charles, he did not dare say a word; for his
uncle, Ludovico Sforza, never left the King of France for an instant.
But at the very moment when Charles VIII was getting up to go, the door
opened, and a young woman appeared and threw herself at the king’s feet;
she was the wife of the unlucky John Galeazzo, and came to entreat his
cousin to do nothing against her father Alfonso, nor against her brother
Ferdinand. At sight of her; Sforza scowled with an anxious and
threatening aspect, for he knew not what impression might be produced on
his ally by this scene. But he was soon reassured; for Charles replied
that he had advanced too far to draw back now, and that the glory of his
name was at stake as well as the interests of his kingdom, and that
these two motives were far too important to be sacrificed to any
sentiment of pity he might feel, however real and deep it might be and
was. The poor young woman, who had based her last hope an this appeal,
then rose from her knees and threw herself sobbing into her husband’s
arms. Charles VIII and Ludavico Sforza, took their leave: John Galeazzo
was doomed.
Two days after, Charles VIII left for Florence, accompanied by his ally;
but scarcely had they reached Parma when a messenger caught them up, and
announced to Ludovico that his nephew was just dead: Ludovico at once
begged Charles to excuse his leaving him to finish the journey alone;
the interests which called him back to Milan were so important, he said,
that he could not under the circumstances stay away a single day longer.
As a fact he had to make sure of succeeding the man he had assassinated.
But Charles VIII continued his road not without some uneasiness. The
sight of the young prince on his deathbed had moved him deeply, for at
the bottom of his heart he was convinced that Ludovico Sforza was his
murderer; and a murderer might very well be a traitor. He was going
forward into an unfamiliar country, with a declared enemy in front of
him and a doubtful friend behind: he was now at the entrance to the
mountains, and as his army had no store of provisions and only lived
from hand to mouth, a forced delay, however short, would mean famine. In
front of him was Fivizzano, nothing, it is true, but a village
surrounded by walls, but beyond Fivizzano lay Sarzano and Pietra Santa,
both of them considered impregnable fortresses; worse than this, they
were coming into a part of the country that was especially unhealthy in
October, had no natural product except oil, and even procured its own
corn from neighbouring provinces; it was plain that a whole army might
perish there in a few days either from scarcity of food or from the
unwholesome air, both of which were more disastrous than the impediments
offered at every step by the nature of the ground. The situation was
grave; but the pride of Piero dei Medici came once more to the rescue of
the fortunes of Charles VIII.