PIERO DEI MEDICI had, as we may remember, undertaken to hold the
entrance to Tuscany against the French; when, however, he saw his enemy
coming down from the Alps, he felt less confident about his own
strength, and demanded help from the pope; but scarcely had the rumour
of foreign invasion began to spread in the Romagna, than the Colonna
family declared themselves the French king’s men, and collecting all
their forces seized Ostia, and there awaited the coming of the French
fleet to offer a passage through Rome. The pope, therefore, instead of
sending troops to Florence, was obliged to recall all his soldiers to be
near the capital; the only promise he made to Piero was that if Bajazet
should send him the troops that he had been asking for, he would
despatch that army for him to make use of. Piero dei Medici had not yet
taken any resolution or formed any plan, when he suddenly heard two
startling pieces of news. A jealous neighbour of his, the Marquis of
Torderiovo, had betrayed to the French the weak side of Fivizzano, so
that they had taken it by storm, and had put its soldiers and
inhabitants to the edge of the sword; on another side, Gilbert of
Montpensier, who had been lighting up the sea-coast so as to keep open
the communications between the French army and their fleet, had met with
a detachment sent by Paolo Orsini to Sarzano, to reinforce the garrison
there, and after an hour’s fighting had cut it to pieces. No quarter had
been granted to any of the prisoners; every man the French could get
hold of they had massacred.
This was the first occasion on which the Italians, accustomed as they
were to the chivalrous contests of the fifteenth century, found
themselves in contact with savage foreigners who, less advanced in
civilisation, had not yet come to consider war as a clever game, but
looked upon it as simply a mortal conflict. So the news of these two
butcheries produced a tremendous sensation at Florence, the richest city
in Italy, and the most prosperous in commerce and in art. Every
Florentine imagined the French to be like an army of those ancient
barbarians who were wont to extinguish fire with blood. The prophecies
of Savonarola, who had predicted the foreign invasion and the
destruction that should follow it, were recalled to the minds of all;
and so much perturbation was evinced that Piero dei Medici, bent on
getting peace at any price, forced a decree upon the republic whereby
she was to send an embassy to the conqueror; and obtained leave,
resolved as he was to deliver himself in person into the hands of the
French monarch, to act as one of the ambassadors. He accordingly quitted
Florence, accompanied by four other messengers, and on his arrival at
Pietra Santa, sent to ask from Charles VIII a safe-conduct for himself
alone. The day after he made this request, Brigonnet and de Piennes came
to fetch him, and led him into the presence of Charles VIII.
Piero dei Medici, in spite of his name and influence, was in the eyes of
the French nobility, who considered it a dishonourable thing to concern
oneself with art or industry, nothing more than a rich merchant, with
whom it would be absurd to stand upon any very strict ceremony. So
Charles VIII received him on horseback, and addressing him with a
haughty air, as a master might address a servant, demanded whence came
this pride of his that made him dispute his entrance into Tuscany. Piero
dei Medici replied, that, with the actual consent of Louis XI, his
father Lorenzo had concluded a treaty of alliance with Ferdinand of
Naples; that accordingly he had acted in obedience to prior obligations,
but as he did, not wish to push too far his devotion to the house of
Aragon or his opposition to France, he was ready to do whatever Charles
VIII might demand of him. The king, who had never looked for such
humility in his enemy, demanded that Sarzano should be given up to him:
to this Piero dei Medici at once consented. Then the conqueror, wishing
to see how far the ambassador of the magnificent republic would extend
his politeness, replied that this concession was far from satisfying
him, and that he still must have the keys of Pietra Santa, Pisa,
Librafatta, and Livorno. Piero saw no more difficulty about these than
about Sarzano, and consented on Charles’s mere promise by word of mouth
to restore the town when he had achieved the conquest of Naples. At last
Charles VIII, seeing that this man who had been sent out to negotiate
with him was very easy to manage, exacted as a final condition, a ’sine
qua non’, however, of his royal protection, that the magnificent
republic should lend him the sum of 200,000 florins. Piero found it no
harder to dispose of money than of fortresses, and replied that his
fellow-citizens would be happy to render this service to their new ally.
Then Charles VIII set him on horseback, and ordered him to go on in
front, so as to begin to carry out his promises by yielding up the four
fortresses he had insisted on having. Piero obeyed, and the French army,
led by the grandson of Cosimo the Great and the son of Lorenzo the
Magnificent, continued its triumphal march through Tuscany.
On his arrival at Lucca, Piero dei Medici learnt that his concessions to
the King of France were making a terrible commotion at Florence. The
magnificent republic had supposed that what Charles VIII wanted was
simply a passage through her territory, so when the news came there was
a general feeling of discontent, which was augmented by the return of
the other ambassadors, whom Piero had not even consulted when he took
action as he did. Piero considered it necessary that he should return,
so he asked Charles’s permission to precede him to the capital. As he
had fulfilled all his promises, except the matter of the loan, which
could not be settled anywhere but at Florence, the king saw no
objection, and the very evening after he quitted the French army Piero
returned incognito to his palace in the Via Largo.
The next day he proposed to present himself before the Signoria, but
when he arrived at the Piazza del Palazzo Vecchio, he perceived the
gonfaloniere Jacopo de Nerli coming towards him, signalling to him that
it was useless to attempt to go farther, and pointing out to him the
figure of Luca Corsini standing at the gate, sword in hand: behind him
stood guards, ordered, if need-were, to dispute his passage. Piero dei
Medici, amazed by an opposition that he was experiencing for the first
time in his life, did not attempt resistance. He went home, and wrote to
his brother-in-law, Paolo Orsini, to come and help him with his
gendarmes. Unluckily for him, his letter was intercepted. The Signoria
considered that it was an attempt at rebellion. They summoned the
citizens to their aid; they armed hastily, sallied forth in crowds, and
thronged about the piazza of the palace. Meanwhile Cardinal Gian dei
Medici had mounted on horseback, and under the impression that the
Orsini were coming to the rescue, was riding about the streets of
Florence, accompanied by his servants and uttering his battle cry,
"Palle, Palle." But times had changed: there was no echo to the cry, and
when the cardinal reached the Via dei Calizaioli, a threatening murmur
was the only response, and he understood that instead of trying to
arouse Florence he had much better get away before the excitement ran
too high. He promptly retired to his own palace, expecting to find there
his two brothers, Piero and Giuliano. But they, under the protection of
Orsini and his gendarmes, had made their escape by the Porto San Gallo.
The peril was imminent, and Gian dei Medici wished to follow their
example; but wherever he went he was met by a clamour that grew more and
more threatening. At last, as he saw that the danger was constantly
increasing, he dismounted from his horse and ran into a house that he
found standing open. This house by a lucky chance communicated with a
convent of Franciscans; one of the friars lent the fugitive his dress,
and the cardinal, under the protection of this humble incognito,
contrived at last to get outside Florence, and joined his two brothers
in the Apennines.
The same day the Medici were declared traitors and rebels, and
ambassadors were sent to the King of France. They found him at Pisa,
where he was granting independence to the town which eighty-seven years
ago had fallen under the rule of the Florentines. Charles VIII made no
reply to the envoys, but merely announced that he was going to march on
Florence.
Such a reply, one may easily understand, terrified the republic.
Florence, had no time to prepare a defence, and no strength in her
present state to make one. But all the powerful houses assembled and
armed their own servants and retainers, and awaited the issue, intending
not to begin hostilities, but to defend themselves should the French
make an attack. It was agreed that if any necessity should arise for
taking up arms, the bells of the various churches in the town should
ring a peal and so serve as a general signal. Such a resolution was
perhaps of more significant moment in Florence than it could have been
in any other town. For the palaces that still remain from that period
are virtually fortresses and the eternal fights between Guelphs and
Ghibellines had familiarised the Tuscan people with street warfare.
The king appeared, on the 17th of November, in the evening, at the gate
of San Friano. He found there the nobles of Florence clad in their most
magnificent apparel, accompanied by priests chanting hymns, and by a mob
who were full of joy at any prospect of change, and hoped for a return
of liberty after the fall of the Medici. Charles VIII stopped for a
moment under a sort of gilded canopy that had been prepared for him, and
replied in a few evasive words to the welcoming speeches which were
addressed to him by the Signoria; then he asked for his lance, he set it
in rest, and gave the order to enter the town, the whole of which he
paraded with his army following him with arms erect, and then went down
to the palace of the Medici, which had been prepared for him.
The next day negotiations commenced; but everyone was out of his
reckoning. The Florentines had received Charles VIII as a guest, but he
had entered the city as a conqueror. So when the deputies of the
Signoria spoke of ratifying the treaty of Piero dei Medici, the king
replied that such a treaty no longer existed, as they had banished the
man who made it; that he had conquered Florence, as he proved the night
before, when he entered lance in hand; that he should retain the
sovereignty, and would make any further decision whenever it pleased him
to do so; further, he would let them know later on whether he would
reinstate the Medici or whether he would delegate his authority to the
Signoria: all they had to do was to come back the next day, and he would
give them his ultimatum in writing.
This reply threw Florence into a great state of consternation; but the
Florentines were confirmed in their resolution of making a stand.
Charles, for his part, had been astonished by the great number of the
inhabitants; not only was every street he had passed through thickly
lined with people, but every house from garret to basement seemed
overflowing with human beings. Florence indeed, thanks to her rapid
increase in population, could muster nearly 150,000 souls.
The next day, at the appointed hour, the deputies made their appearance
to meet the king. They were again introduced into his presence, and the
discussion was reopened. At last, as they were coming to no sort of
understanding, the royal secretary, standing at the foot of the throne
upon which Charles VIII sat with covered head, unfolded a paper and
began to read, article by article, the conditions imposed by the King of
France. But scarcely had he read a third of the document when the
discussion began more hotly than ever before. Then Charles VIII said
that thus it should be, or he would order his trumpets to be sounded.
Hereupon Piero Capponi, secretary to the republic, commonly called the
Scipio of Florence, snatched from the royal secretary’s hand the
shameful proposal of capitulation, and tearing it to pieces, exclaimed:—
"Very good, sire; blow your trumpets, and we will ring our bells."
He threw the pieces in the face of the amazed reader, and dashed out of
the room to give the terrible order that would convert the street of
Florence into a battlefield.
Still, against all probabilities, this bold answer saved the town. The
French supposed, from such audacious words, addressed as they were to
men who so far had encountered no single obstacle, that the Florentines
were possessed of sure resources, to them unknown: the few prudent men
who retained any influence over the king advised him accordingly to
abate his pretensions; the result was that Charles VIII offered new and
more reasonable conditions, which were accepted, signed by both parties,
and proclaimed on the 26th of November during mass in the cathedral of
Santa Maria Del Fiore.
These were the conditions:
The Signoria were to pay to Charles VIII, as subsidy, the sum of 120,000
florins, in three instalments;
The Signoria were to remove the sequestration imposed upon the property
of the Medici, and to recall the decree that set a price on their heads;
The Signoria were to engage to pardon the Pisans, on condition of their
again submitting to the rule of Florence;
Lastly, the Signoria were to recognise the claims of the Duke of Milan
over Sarzano and Pietra Santa, and these claims thus recognised, were to
be settled by arbitration.
In exchange for this, the King of France pledged himself to restore the
fortresses that had been given up to him, either after he had made
himself master of the town of Naples, or when this war should be ended
by a peace or a two years’ truce, or else when, for any reason
whatsoever, he should have quitted Italy.
Two days after this proclamation, Charles VIII, much to the joy of the
Signoria, left Florence, and advanced towards Rome by the route of
Poggibondi and Siena.
The pope began to be affected by the general terror: he had heard of the
massacres of Fivizzano, of Lunigiane, and of Imola; he knew that Piero
dei Medici had handed over the Tuscan fortresses, that Florence had
succumbed, and that Catherine Sforza had made terms with the conqueror;
he saw the broken remnants of the Neapolitan troops pass disheartened
through Rome, to rally their strength in the Abruzzi, and thus he found
himself exposed to an enemy who was advancing upon him with the whole of
the Romagna under his control from one sea to the other, in a line of
march extending from Piombina to Ancona.
It was at this juncture that Alexander VI received his answer from
Bajazet II: the reason of so long a delay was that the pope’s envoy and
the Neapolitan ambassador had been stopped by Gian della Rovere, the
Cardinal Giuliano’s brother, just as they were disembarking at
Sinigaglia. They were charged with a verbal answer, which was that the
sultan at this moment was busied with a triple war, first with the
Sultan of Egypt, secondly with the King of Hungary, and thirdly with the
Greeks of Macedonia and Epirus; and therefore he could not, with all the
will in the world, help His Holiness with armed men. But the envoys were
accompanied by a favourite of the sultan’s bearing a private letter to
Alexander VI, in which Bajazet offered on certain conditions to help him
with money. Although, as we see, the messengers had been stopped on the
way, the Turkish envoy had all the same found a means of getting his
despatch sent to the pope: we give it here in all its naivete.
"Bajazet the Sultan, son of the Sultan Mahomet II, by the grace of God
Emperor of Asia and Europe, to the Father and Lord of all the
Christians, Alexander VI, Roman pontiff and pope by the will of heavenly
Providence, first, greetings that we owe him and bestow with all our
heart. We make known to your Highness, by the envoy of your Mightiness,
Giorgio Bucciarda, that we have been apprised of your convalescence, and
received the news thereof with great joy and comfort. Among other
matters, the said Bucciarda has brought us word that the King of France,
now marching against your Highness, has shown a desire to take under his
protection our brother D’jem, who is now under yours—a thing which is
not only against our will, but which would also be the cause of great
injury to your Highness and to all Christendom. In turning the matter
over with your envoy Giorgio we have devised a scheme most conducive to
peace and most advantageous and honourable for your Highness; at the
same time satisfactory to ourselves personally; it would be well if our
aforesaid brother D’jem, who being a man is liable to death, and who is
now in the hands of your Highness, should quit this world as soon as
possible, seeing that his departure, a real good to him in his position,
would be of great use to your Highness, and very conducive to your
peace, while at the same time it would be very agreeable to us, your
friend. If this proposition is favourably received, as we hope, by your
Highness, in your desire to be friendly towards us, it would be
advisable both in the interests of your Highness and for our own
satisfaction that it should occur rather sooner than later, and by the
surest means you might be pleased to employ; so that our said brother
D’jem might pass from the pains of this world into a better and more
peaceful life, where at last he may find repose. If your Highness should
adapt this plan and send us the body of our brother, We, the above-named
Sultan Bajazet, pledge ourselves to send to your Highness, wheresoever
and by whatsoever hands you please, the sum of 300,000 ducats, With
which sum you could purchase some fair domain for your children. In
order to facilitate this purchase, we would be willing, while awaiting
the issue, to place the 300,000 ducats in the hands of a third party, so
that your Highness might be quite certain of receiving the money on an
appointed day, in return for the despatch of our brother’s body.
Moreover, we promise your Highness herewith, for your greater
satisfaction, that never, so long as you shall remain on the pontifical
throne, shall there be any hurt done to the Christians, neither by us,
nor by our servants, nor by any of our compatriots, of whatsoever kind
or condition they may be, neither on sea nor on land. And for the still
further satisfaction of your Highness, and in order that no doubt
whatever may remain concerning the fulfilment of our promises, we have
sworn and affirmed in the presence of Bucciarda, your envoy, by the true
God whom we adore and by our holy Gospels, that they shall be faithfully
kept from the first point unto the last. And now for the final and
complete assurance of your Highness, in order that no doubt may still
remain in your heart, and that you may be once again and profoundly
convinced of our good faith, we the aforesaid Sultan Bajazet do swear by
the true God, who has created the heavens and the earth and all that
therein is, that we will religiously observe all that has been above
said and declared, and in the future will do nothing and undertake
nothing that may be contrary to the interests of your Highness.
"Given at Constantinople, in our palace, on the 12th of September A.D.
1494."
This letter was the cause of great joy to the Holy Father: the aid of
four or five thousand Turks would be insufficient under the present
circumstances, and would only serve to compromise the head of
Christendom, while the sum of 300,000 ducats—that is, nearly a million
francs—was good to get in any sort of circumstances. It is true that, so
long as D’jem lived, Alexander was drawing an income of 180,000 livres,
which as a life annuity represented a capital of nearly two millions;
but when one needs ready maney, one ought to be able to make a sacrifice
in the way of discount. All the same, Alexander formed no definite plan,
resolved on acting as circumstances should indicate.
But it was a more pressing business to decide how he should behave to
the King of France: he had never anticipated the success of the French
in Italy, and we have seen that he laid all the foundations of his
family’s future grandeur upon his alliance with the house of Aragon. But
here was this house tottering, and a volcano more terrible than her own
Vesuvius was threatening to swallow up Naples. He must therefore change
his policy, and attach himself to the victor,—no easy matter, for
Charles VIII was bitterly annoyed with the pope for having refused him
the investiture and given it to Aragon.
In consequence, he sent Cardinal Francesco Piccolomini as an envoy to
the king. This choice looked like a mistake at first, seeing that the
ambassador was a nephew of Pius II, who had vigorously opposed the house
of Anjou; but Alexander in acting thus had a second design, which could
not be discerned by those around him. In fact, he had divined that
Charles would not be quick to receive his envoy, and that, in the
parleyings to which his unwillingness must give rise, Piccolomini would
necessarily be brought into contact with the young king’s advisers. Now,
besides his ostensible mission to the king, Piccalamini had also secret
instructions for the more influential among his counsellors. These were
Briconnet and Philippe de Luxembourg; and Piccolomini was authorised to
promise a cardinal’s hat to each of them. The result was just what
Alexander had foreseen: his envoy could not gain admission to Charles,
and was obliged to confer with the people about him. This was what the
pope wished. Piccolomini returned to Rome with the king’s refusal, but
with a promise from Briconnet and Philippe de Luxembourg that they would
use all their influence with Charles in favour of the Holy Father, and
prepare him to receive a fresh embassy.
But the French all this time were advancing, and never stopped more than
forty-eight hours in any town, so that it became more and more urgent to
get something settled with Charles. The king had entered Siena and
Viterbo without striking a blow; Yves d’ Alegre and Louis de Ligny had
taken over Ostia from the hands of the Colonnas; Civita Vecchia and
Corneto had opened their gates; the Orsini had submitted; even Gian
Sforza, the pope’s son-in-law, had retired from the alliance with
Aragon. Alexander accordingly judged that the moment had came to abandon
his ally, and sent to Charles the Bishops of Concordia and Terni, and
his confessor, Mansignore Graziano. They were charged to renew to
Briconnet and Philippe de Luxembourg the promise of the cardinalship,
and had full powers of negotiation in the name of their master, both in
case Charles should wish to include Alfonso II in the treaty, and in
case he should refuse to sign an agreement with any other but the pope
alone. They found the mind of Charles influenced now by the insinuation
of Giuliano della Ravere, who, himself a witness of the pope’s simony,
pressed the king to summon a council and depose the head of the Church,
and now by the secret support given him by the Bishops of Mans and St.
Malo. The end of it was that the king decided to form his own opinion
about the matter and settle nothing beforehand, and continued this
route, sending the ambassadors back to the pope, with the addition of
the Marechal de Gie, the Seneschal de Beaucaire, and Jean de Gannay,
first president of the Paris Parliament. They were ordered to say to the
pope—
(1) That the king wished above all things to be admitted into Rome
without resistance; that, an condition of a voluntary, frank, and
loyal admission, he would respect the authority of the Holy Father
and the privileges of the Church;
(2) That the king desired that D’jem should be given up to him, in
order that he might make use of him against the sultan when he
should carry the war into Macedonia or Turkey or the Holy Land;
(3) That the remaining conditions were so unimportant that they could
be brought forward at the first conference.
The ambassadors added that the French army was now only two days distant
from Rome, and that in the evening of the day after next Charles would
probably arrive in person to demand an answer from His Holiness.
It was useless to think of parleying with a prince who acted in such
expeditious fashion as this. Alexander accordingly warned Ferdinand to
quit Rome as soon as possible, in the interests of his own personal
safety. But Ferdinand refused to listen to a word, and declared that he
would not go out at one gate while Charles VIII came in at another. His
sojourn was not long. Two days later, about eleven o’clock in the
morning, a sentinel placed on a watch-tower at the top of the Castle S.
Angelo, whither the pope had retired, cried out that the vanguard of the
enemy was visible on the horizon. At once Alexander and the Duke of
Calabria went up an the terrace which tops the fortress, and assured
themselves with their own eyes that what the soldier said was true.
Then, and not till then, did the duke of Calabria mount on horseback,
and, to use his own words, went out at the gate of San Sebastiana, at
the same moment that the French vanguard halted five hundred feet from
the Gate of the People. This was on the 31st of December 1494.
At three in the afternoon the whole army had arrived, and the vanguard
began their march, drums beating, ensigns unfurled. It was composed,
says Paolo Giove, an eye-witness (book ii, p. 41 of his History), of
Swiss and German soldiers, with short tight coats of various colours:
they were armed with short swords, with steel edges like those of the
ancient Romans, and carried ashen lances ten feet long, with straight
and sharp iron spikes: only one-fourth of their number bore halberts
instead of lances, the spikes cut into the form of an axe and surmounted
by a four-cornered spike, to be used both for cutting like an axe and
piercing like a bayonet: the first row of each battalion wore helmets
and cuirasses which protected the head and chest, and when the men were
drawn up for battle they presented to the enemy a triple array of iron
spikes, which they could raise or lower like the spines of a porcupine.
To each thousand of the soldiery were attached a hundred fusiliers:
their officers, to distinguish them from the men, wore lofty plumes on
their helmets.
After the Swiss infantry came the archers of Gascony: there were five
thousand of them, wearing a very simple dress, that contrasted with the
rich costume of the Swiss soldiers, the shortest of whom would have been
a head higher than the tallest of the Gascons. But they were excellent
soldiers, full of courage, very light, and with a special reputation for
quickness in stringing and drawing their iron bows.
Behind them rode the cavalry, the flower of the French nobility, with
their gilded helmets and neck bands, their velvet and silk surcoats,
their swords each of which had its own name, their shields each telling
of territorial estates, and their colours each telling of a lady-love.
Besides defensive arms, each man bore a lance in his hand, like an
Italian gendarme, with a solid grooved end, and on his saddle bow a
quantity of weapons, some for cutting and some for thrusting. Their
horses were large and strong, but they had their tails and ears cropped
according to the French custom. These horses, unlike those of the
Italian gendarmes, wore no caparisons of dressed leather, which made
them more exposed to attack. Every knight was followed by three
horses—the first ridden by a page in armour like his own, the two others
by equerries who were called lateral auxiliaries, because in a fray they
fought to right and left of their chief. This troop was not only the
most magnificent, but the most considerable in the whole army; for as
there were 2500 knights, they formed each with their three followers a
total of 10,000 men. Five thousand light horse rode next, who carried
huge wooden bows, and shot long arrows from a distance like English
archers. They were a great help in battle, for moving rapidly wherever
aid was required, they could fly in a moment from one wing to another,
from the rear to the van, then when their quivers were empty could go
off at so swift a gallop that neither infantry or heavy cavalry could
pursue them. Their defensive armour consisted of a helmet and
half-cuirass; some of them carried a short lance as well, with which to
pin their stricken foe to the ground; they all wore long cloaks adorned
with shoulder-knots, and plates of silver whereon the arms of their
chief were emblazoned.
At last came the young king’s escort; there were four hundred archers,
among whom a hundred Scots formed a line on each side, while two hundred
of the most illustrious knights marched on foot beside the prince,
carrying heavy arms on their shoulders. In the midst of this magnificent
escort advanced Charles VIII, both he and his horse covered with
splendid armour; on his right and left marched Cardinal Ascanio Sforza,
the Duke of Milan’s brother, and Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, of whom
we have spoken so often, who was afterwards Pope Julius II. The
Cardinals Colonna and Savelli followed immediately after, and behind
them came Prospero and Fabrizia Colonna, and all the Italian princes and
generals who had thrown in their lot with the conqueror, and were
marching intermingled with the great French lords.
For a long time the crowd that had collected to see all these foreign
soldiers go by, a sight so new and strange, listened uneasily to a dull
sound which got nearer and nearer. The earth visibly trembled, the glass
shook in the windows, and behind the king’s escort thirty-six bronze
cannons were seen to advance, bumping along as they lay on their
gun-carriages. These cannons were eight feet in length; and as their
mouths were large enough to hold a man’s head, it was supposed that each
of these terrible machines, scarcely known as yet to the Italians,
weighed nearly six thousand pounds. After the cannons came culverins
sixteen feet long, and then falconets, the smallest of which shot balls
the size of a grenade. This formidable artillery brought up the rear of
the procession, and formed the hindmost guard of the French army.
It was six hours since the front guard entered the town; and as it was
now night and for every six artillery-men there was a torch-bearer, this
illumination gave to the objects around a more gloomy character than
they would have shown in the sunlight. The young king was to take up his
quarters in the Palazzo di Venezia, and all the artillery was directed
towards the plaza and the neighbouring streets. The remainder of the
army was dispersed about the town. The same evening, they brought to the
king, less to do honour to him than to assure him of his safety, the
keys of Rome and the keys of the Belvedere Garden just the same thing
had been done for the Duke of Calabria.
The pope, as we said, had retired to the Castle S. Angelo with only six
cardinals, so from the day after his arrival the young king had around
him a court of very different brilliance from that of the head of the
Church. Then arose anew the question of a convocation to prove
Alexander’s simony and proceed to depose him; but the king’s chief
counsellors, gained over, as we know, pointed out that this was a bad
moment to excite a new schism in the Church, just when preparations were
being made for war against the infidels. As this was also the king’s
private opinion, there was not much trouble in persuading him, and he
made up his mind to treat with His Holiness.
But the negotiations had scarcely begun when they had to be broken off;
for the first thing Charles VIII demanded was the surrender of the
Castle S. Angelo, and as the pope saw in this castle his only refuge, it
was the last thing he chose to give up. Twice, in his youthful
impatience, Charles wanted to take by force what he could not get by
goodwill, and had his cannons directed towards the Holy Father’s
dwelling-place; but the pope was unmoved by these demonstrations; and
obstinate as he was, this time it was the French king who gave way.
This article, therefore, was set aside, and the following conditions
were agreed upon:
That there should be from this day forward between His Majesty the King
of France and the Holy Father a sincere friendship and a firm alliance;
Before the completion of the conquest of the kingdom of Naples, the King
of France should occupy, for the advantage and accommodation of his
army, the fortresses of Civita Vecchia, Terracina, and Spoleto;
Lastly, the Cardinal Valentino (this was now the name of Caesar Borgia,
after his archbishopric of Valencia) should accompany the king in the
capacity of apostolic ambassador, really as a hostage.
These conditions fixed, the ceremonial of an interview was arranged. The
king left the Palazzo di Venezia and went to live in the Vatican. At the
appointed time he entered by the door of a garden that adjoined the
palace, while the pope, who had not had to quit the Castle S. Angelo,
thanks to a corridor communicating between the two palaces, came down
into the same garden by another gate. The result of this arrangement was
that the king the next moment perceived the pope, and knelt down, but
the pope pretended not to see him, and the king advancing a few paces,
knelt a second time; as His Holiness was at that moment screened by some
masonry, this supplied him with another excuse, and the king went on
with the performance, got up again, once more advanced several steps,
and was on the point of kneeling down the third time face to face, when
the Holy Father at last perceived him, and, walking towards him as
though he would prevent him from kneeling, took off his own hat, and
pressing him to his heart, raised him up and tenderly kissed his
forehead, refusing to cover until the king had put his cap upon his
head, with the aid of the pope’s own hands. Then, after they had stood
for a moment, exchanging polite and friendly speeches, the king lost no
time in praying His Holiness to be so good as to receive into the Sacred
College William Bricannet, the Bishop of St. Malo. As this matter had
been agreed upon beforehand by that prelate and His Holiness, though the
king was not aware of it, Alexander was pleased to get credit by
promptly granting the request; and he instantly ordered one of his
attendants to go to the house of his son, Cardinal Valentino, and fetch
a cape and hat. Then taking the king by the hand, he conducted him into
the hall of Papagalli, where the ceremony was to take place of the
admission of the new cardinal. The solemn oath of obedience which was to
be taken by Charles to His Holiness as supreme head of the Christian
Church was postponed till the following day.
When that solemn day arrived, every person important in Rome, noble,
cleric, or soldier, assembled around His Holiness. Charles, on his side,
made his approach to the Vatican with a splendid following of princes,
prelates, and captains. At the threshold of the palace he found four
cardinals who had arrived before him: two of them placed themselves one
on each side of him, the two others behind him, and all his retinue
following, they traversed a long line of apartments full of guards and
servants, and at last arrived in the reception-room, where the pope was
seated on his throne, with his son, Caesar Borgia; behind him. On his
arrival at the door, the King of France began the usual ceremonial, and
when he had gone on from genuflexions to kissing the feet, the hand, and
the forehead, he stood up, while the first president of the Parliament
of Paris, in his turn stepping forward, said in a loud voice:
"Very Holy Father, behold my king ready to offer to your Holiness that
oath of obedience that he owes to you; but in France it is customary
that he who offers himself as vassal to his lord shall receive in
exchange therefor such boons as he may demand. His Majesty, therefore,
while he pledges himself for his own part to behave unto your Holiness
with a munificence even greater than that wherewith your Holiness shall
behave unto him, is here to beg urgently that you accord him three
favours. These favours are: first, the confirmation of priveleges
already granted to the king, to the queen his wife, and to the dauphin
his son; secondly, the investiture, for himself and his successors, of
the kingdom of Naples; lastly, the surrender to him of the person of the
sultan D’jem, brother of the Turkish emperor."
At this address the pope was for a moment stupefied, for he did not
expect these three demands, which were moreover made so publicly by
Charles that no manner of refusal was possible. But quickly recovering
his presence of mind, he replied to the king that he would willingly
confirm the privileges that had been accorded to the house of France by
his predecessors; that he might therefore consider his first demand
granted; that the investiture of the kingdom was an affair that required
deliberation in a council of cardinals, but he would do all he possibly
could to induce them to accede to the king’s desire; lastly, he must
defer the affair of the sultan’s brother till a time more opportune for
discussing it with the Sacred College, but would venture to say that, as
this surrender could not fail to be for the good of Christendom, as it
was demanded for the purpose of assuring further the success of a
crusade, it would not be his fault if on this point also the king should
not be satisfied.
At this reply, Charles bowed his head in sign of satisfaction, and the
first president stood up, uncovered, and resumed his discourse as
follows.
"Very Holy Father, it is an ancient custom among Christian kings,
especially the Most Christian kings of France, to signify, through their
ambassadors, the respect they feel for the Holy See and the sovereign
pontiffs whom Divine Providence places thereon; but the Most Christian
king, having felt a desire to visit the tombs of the holy apostles, has
been pleased to pay this religious debt, which he regards as a sacred
duty, not by ambassadors or by delegates, but in his own person. This is
why, Very Holy Father, His Majesty the King of France is here to
acknowledge you as the true vicar of Christ, the legitimate successor of
the apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, and with promise and vow renders
you that filial and respectful devotion which the kings his predecessors
have been accustomed to promise and vow, devoting himself and all his
strength to the service of your Holiness and the interests of the Holy
See."
The pope arose with a joyful heart; for this oath, so publicly made,
removed all his fears about a council; so inclined from this moment to
yield to the King of France anything he might choose to ask, he took him
by his left hand and made him a short and friendly reply, dubbing him
the Church’s eldest son. The ceremony over, they left the hall, the pope
always holding the king’s hand in his, and in this way they walked as
far as the room where the sacred vestments are put off; the pope feigned
a wish to conduct the king to his own apartments, but the king would not
suffer this, and, embracing once more, they separated, each to retire to
his own domicile.
The king remained eight days longer at the Vatican, then returned to the
Palazzo San Marco. During these eight days all his demands were debated
and settled to his satisfaction. The Bishop of Mans was made cardinal;
the investiture of the kingdom of Naples was promised to the conqueror;
lastly, it was agreed that on his departure the King of France should
receive from the pope’s hand the brother of the Emperor of
Constantinople, for a sum of 120,000 livres. But—the pope, desiring to
extend to the utmost the hospitality he had been bestowing, invited
D’jem to dinner on the very day that he was to leave Rome with his new
protector.
When the moment of departure arrived, Charles mounted his horse in full
armour, and with a numerous and brilliant following made his way to the
Vatican; arrived at the door, he dismounted, and leaving his escort at
the Piazza of St. Peter, went up with a few gentlemen only. He found His
Holiness waiting for him, with Cardinal Valentino on his right, and on
his left D’jem, who, as we said before, was dining with him, and round
the table thirteen cardinals. The king at once, bending on his knee,
demanded the pope’s benediction, and stooped to kiss his feet. But this
Alexander would not suffer; he took him in his arms, and with the lips
of a father and heart of an enemy, kissed him tenderly on his forehead.
Then the pope introduced the son of Mahomet II, who was a fine young
man, with something noble and regal in his air, presenting in his
magnificent oriental costume a great contrast in its fashion and
amplitude to the narrow, severe cut of the Christian apparel. D’jem
advanced to Charles without humility and without pride, and, like an
emperor’s son treating with a king, kissed his hand and then his
shoulder; then, turning towards the Holy Father, he said in Italian,
which he spoke very well, that he entreated he would recommend him to
the young king, who was prepared to take him under his protection,
assuring the pontiff that he should never have to repent giving him his
liberty, and telling Charles that he hoped he might some day be proud of
him, if after taking Naples he carried out his intention of going on to
Greece. These words were spoken with so much dignity and at the same
time with such gentleness, that the King of France loyally and frankly
grasped the young sultan’s hand, as though he were his
companion-in-arms. Then Charles took a final farewell of the pope, and
went down to the piazza. There he was awaited by Cardinal Valentino, who
was about to accompany him, as we know, as a hostage, and who had
remained behind to exchange a few words with his father. In a moment
Caesar Borgia appeared, riding on a splendidly harnessed mule, and
behind him were led six magnificent horses, a present from the Holy
Father to the King of France. Charles at once mounted one of these, to
do honour to the gift. The pope had just conferred on him, and leaving
Rome with the rest of his troops, pursued his way towards Marino, where
he arrived the same evening.
He learned there that Alfonso, belying his reputation as a clever
politician and great general, had just embarked with all his treasures
in a flotilla of four galleys, leaving the care of the war and the
management of his kingdom to his son Ferdinand. Thus everything went
well for the triumphant march of Charles: the gates of towns opened of
themselves at his approach, his enemies fled without waiting for his
coming, and before he had fought a single battle he had won for himself
the surname of Conqueror.
The day after at dawn the army started once more, and after marching the
whole day, stopped in the evening at Velletri. There the king, who had
been on horseback since the morning, with Cardinal Valentine and D’jem,
left the former at his lodging, and taking D’jem with him, went on to
his own. Then Caesar Borgia, who among the army baggage had twenty very
heavy waggons of his own, had one of these opened, took out a splendid
cabinet with the silver necessary for his table, and gave orders for his
supper to be prepared, as he had done the night before. Meanwhile, night
had come on, and he shut himself up in a private chamber, where,
stripping off his cardinal’s costume, he put on a groom’s dress. Thanks
to this disguise, he issued from the house that had been assigned for
his accommodation without being recognised, traversed the streets,
passed through the gates, and gained the open country. Nearly half a
league outside the town, a servant awaited him with two swift horses.
Caesar, who was an excellent rider, sprang to the saddle, and he and his
companion at full gallop retraced the road to Rome, where they arrived
at break of day. Caesar got down at the house of one Flores, auditor of
the rota, where he procured a fresh horse and suitable clothes; then he
flew at once to his mother, who gave a cry of joy when she saw him; for
so silent and mysterious was the cardinal for all the world beside, and
even for her, that he had not said a word of his early return to Rome.
The cry of joy uttered by Rosa Vanozza when she beheld her son was far
more a cry of vengeance than of love. One evening, while everybody was
at the rejoicings in the Vatican, when Charles VIII and Alexander VI
were swearing a friendship which neither of them felt, and exchanging
oaths that were broken beforehand, a messenger from Rosa Vanozza had
arrived with a letter to Caesar, in which she begged him to come at once
to her house in the Via delta Longara. Caesar questioned the messenger,
but he only replied that he could tell him nothing, that he would learn
all he cared to know from his mother’s own lips. So, as soon as he was
at liberty, Caesar, in layman’s dress and wrapped in a large cloak,
quitted the Vatican and made his way towards the church of Regina Coeli,
in the neighbourhood of which, it will be remembered, was the house
where the pope’s mistress lived.
As he approached his mother’s house, Caesar began to observe the signs
of strange devastation. The street was scattered with the wreck of
furniture and strips of precious stuffs. As he arrived at the foot of
the little flight of steps that led to the entrance gate, he saw that
the windows were broken and the remains of torn curtains were fluttering
in front of them. Not understanding what this disorder could mean, he
rushed into the house and through several deserted and wrecked
apartments. At last, seeing light in one of the rooms, he went in, and
there found his mother sitting on the remains of a chest made of ebony
all inlaid with ivory and silver. When she saw Caesar, she rose, pale
and dishevelled, and pointing to the desolation around her, exclaimed:
"Look, Caesar; behold the work of your new friends."
"But what does it mean, mother?" asked the cardinal. "Whence comes all
this disorder?"
"From the serpent," replied Rosa Vanozza, gnashing her teeth,—"from the
serpent you have warmed in your bosom. He has bitten me, fearing no
doubt that his teeth would be broken on you."
"Who has done this?" cried Caesar. "Tell me, and, by Heaven, mother, he
shall pay, and pay indeed!"
"Who?" replied Rosa. "King Charles VIII has done it, by the hands of his
faithful allies, the Swiss. It was well known that Melchior was away,
and that I was living alone with a few wretched servants; so they came
and broke in the doors, as though they were taking Rome by storm, and
while Cardinal Valentino was making holiday with their master, they
pillaged his mother’s house, loading her with insults and outrages which
no Turks or Saracens could possibly have improved upon."
"Very good, very good, mother," said Caesar; "be calm; blood shall wash
out disgrace. Consider a moment; what we have lost is nothing compared
with what we might lose; and my father and I, you may be quite sure,
will give you back more than they have stolen from you."
"I ask for no promises," cried Rosa; "I ask for revenge."
"My mother," said the cardinal, "you shall be avenged, or I will lose
the name of son."
Having by these words reassured his mother, he took her to Lucrezia’s
palace, which in consequence of her marriage with Pesaro was unoccupied,
and himself returned to the Vatican, giving orders that his mother’s
house should be refurnished more magnificently than before the disaster.
These orders were punctually executed, and it was among her new
luxurious surroundings, but with the same hatred in her heart, that
Caesar on this occasion found his mother. This feeling prompted her cry
of joy when she saw him once more.
The mother and son exchanged a very few words; then Caesar, mounting on
horseback, went to the Vatican, whence as a hostage he had departed two
days before. Alexander, who knew of the flight beforehand, and not only
approved, but as sovereign pontiff had previously absolved his son of
the perjury he was about to commit, received him joyfully, but all the
same advised him to lie concealed, as Charles in all probability would
not be slow to reclaim his hostage:
Indeed, the next day, when the king got up, the absence of Cardinal
Valentino was observed, and as Charles was uneasy at not seeing him, he
sent to inquire what had prevented his appearance. When the messenger
arrived at the house that Caesar had left the evening before, he learned
that he had gone out at nine o’clock in the evening and not returned
since. He went back with this news to the king, who at once suspected
that he had fled, and in the first flush of his anger let the whole army
know of his perjury. The soldiers then remembered the twenty waggons, so
heavily laden, from one of which the cardinal, in the sight of all, had
produced such magnificent gold and silver plate; and never doubting that
the cargo of the others was equally precious, they fetched them down and
broke them to pieces; but inside they found nothing but stones and sand,
which proved to the king that the flight had been planned a long time
back, and incensed him doubly against the pope. So without loss of time
he despatched to Rome Philippe de Bresse, afterwards Duke of Savoy, with
orders to intimate to the Holy Father his displeasure at this conduct.
But the pope replied that he knew nothing whatever about his son’s
flight, and expressed the sincerest regret to His Majesty, declaring
that he knew nothing of his whereabouts, but was certain that he was not
in Rome. As a fact, the pope was speaking the truth this time, for
Caesar had gone with Cardinal Orsino to one of his estates, and was
temporarily in hiding there. This reply was conveyed to Charles by two
messengers from the pope, the Bishops of Nepi and of Sutri, and the
people also sent an ambassador in their own behalf. He was Monsignore
Porcari, dean of the rota, who was charged to communicate to the king
the displeasure of the Romans when they learned of the cardinal’s breach
of faith. Little as Charles was disposed to content himself with empty
words, he had to turn his attention to more serious affairs; so he
continued his march to Naples without stopping, arriving there on
Sunday, the 22nd of February, 1495.
Four days later, the unlucky D’jem, who had fallen sick at Capua died at
Castel Nuovo. When he was leaving, at the farewell banquet, Alexander
had tried on his guest the poison he intended to use so often later on
upon his cardinals, and whose effects he was destined to feel
himself,—such is poetical justice. In this way the pope had secured a
double haul; for, in his twofold speculation in this wretched young man,
he had sold him alive to Charles for 120,000 livres and sold him dead to
Bajazet for 300,00 ducats....
But there was a certain delay about the second payment; for the Turkish
emperor, as we remember, was not bound to pay the price of fratricide
till he received the corpse, and by Charles’s order the corpse had been
buried at Gaeta.
When Caesar Borgia learned the news, he rightly supposed that the king
would be so busy settling himself in his new capital that he would have
too much to think of to be worrying about him; so he went to Rome again,
and, anxious to keep his promise to his mother, he signalised his return
by a terrible vengeance.
Cardinal Valentino had in his service a certain Spaniard whom he had
made the chief of his bravoes; he was a man of five-and-thirty or forty,
whose whole life had been one long rebellion against society’s laws; he
recoiled from no action, provided only he could get his price. This Don
Michele Correglia, who earned his celebrity for bloody deeds under the
name of Michelotto, was just the man Caesar wanted; and whereas
Michelotto felt an unbounded admiration for Caesar, Caesar had unlimited
confidence in Michelotto. It was to him the cardinal entrusted the
execution of one part of his vengeance; the other he kept for himself.
Don Michele received orders to scour the Campagna and cut every French
throat he could find. He began his work at once; and very few days
elapsed before he had obtained most satisfactory results: more than a
hundred persons were robbed or assassinated, and among the last the son
of Cardinal de St. Malo, who was on his way back to France, and on whom
Michelotto found a sum of 3000 crowns.
For himself, Caesar reserved the Swiss; for it was the Swiss in
particular who had despoiled his mother’s house. The pope had in his
service about a hundred and fifty soldiers belonging to their nation,
who had settled their families in Rome, and had grown rich partly by
their pay and partly in the exercise of various industries. The cardinal
had every one of them dismissed, with orders to quit Rome within
twenty-four hours and the Roman territories within three days. The poor
wretches had all collected together to obey the order, with their wives
and children and baggage, on the Piazza of St. Peter, when suddenly, by
Cardinal Valentino’s orders, they were hemmed in on all sides by two
thousand Spaniards, who began to fire on them with their guns and charge
them with their sabres, while Caesar and his mother looked down upon the
carnage from a window. In this way they killed fifty or perhaps sixty;
but the rest coming up, made a charge at the assassins, and then,
without suffering any loss, managed to beat a retreat to a house, where
they stood a siege, and made so valiant a defense that they gave the
pope time—he knew nothing of the author of this butchery—to send the
captain of his guard to the rescue, who, with a strong detachment,
succeeded in getting nearly forty of them safely out of the town: the
rest had been massacred on the piazza or killed in the house.
But this was no real and adequate revenge; for it did not touch Charles
himself, the sole author of all the troubles that the pope and his
family had experienced during the last year. So Caesar soon abandoned
vulgar schemes of this kind and busied himself with loftier concerns,
bending all the force of his genius to restore the league of Italian
princes that had been broken by the defection of Sforza, the exile of
Piero dei Medici, and the defeat of Alfonso. The enterprise was more
easily accomplished than the pope could have anticipated. The Venetians
were very uneasy when Charles passed so near, and they trembled lest,
when he was once master of Naples, he might conceive the idea of
conquering the rest of Italy. Ludovico Sforza, on his side, was
beginning to tremble, seeing the rapidity with which the King of France
had dethroned the house of Aragon, lest he might not make much
difference between his allies and his enemies. Maximilian, for his part,
was only seeking an occasion to break the temporary peace which he had
granted for the sake of the concession made to him. Lastly, Ferdinand
and Isabella were allies of the dethroned house. And so it came about
that all of them, for different reasons, felt a common fear, and were
soon in agreement as to the necessity of driving out Charles VIII, not
only from Naples, but from Italy, and pledged themselves to work
together to this end, by every means in their power, by negotiations, by
trickery, or by actual force. The Florentines alone refused to take part
in this general levy of arms, and remained faithful to their promises.
According to the articles of the treaty agreed upon by the confederates,
the alliance was to last for five-and-twenty years, and had for
ostensible object the upholding of the majority of the pope, and the
interests of Christendom; and these preparations might well have been
taken for such as would precede a crusade against the Turks, if
Bajazet’s ambassador had not always been present at the deliberations,
although the Christian princes could not have dared for very shame to
admit the, sultan by name into their league. Now the confederates had to
set on foot an army of 30,000 horse and 20,000 infantry, and each of
them was taxed for a contingent; thus the pope was to furnish 4000
horse, Maximilian 6000, the King of Spain, the Duke of Milan, and the
republic of Venice, 8000 each. Every confederate was, in addition to
this, to levy and equip 4000 infantry in the six weeks following the
signature of the treaty. The fleets were to be equipped by the Maritime
States; but any expenses they should incur later on were to be defrayed
by all in equal shares.
The formation of this league was made public on the 12th of April, 1495,
Palm Sunday, and in all the Italian States, especially at Rome, was made
the occasion of fetes and immense rejoicings. Almost as soon as the
publicly known articles were announced the secret ones were put into
execution. These obliged Ferdinand and Isabella to send a fleet of sixty
galleys to Ischia, where Alfonso’s son had retired, with six hundred
horsemen on board and five thousand infantry, to help him to ascend the
throne once more. Those troops were to be put under the command of
Gonzalvo of Cordova, who had gained the reputation of the greatest
general in Europe after the taking of Granada. The Venetians with a
fleet of forty galleys under the command of Antonio Grimani, were to
attack all the French stations on the coast of Calabria and Naples. The
Duke of Milan promised for his part to check all reinforcements as they
should arrive from France, and to drive the Duke of Orleans out of Asti.
Lastly, there was Maximilian, who had promised to make invasions on the
frontiers, and Bajazet, who was to help with money, ships, and soldiers
either the Venetians or the Spaniards, according as he might be appealed
to by Barberigo or by Ferdinand the Catholic.
This league was all the more disconcerting for Charles, because of the
speedy abatement of the enthusiasm that had hailed his first appearance.
What had happened to him was what generally happens to a conqueror who
has more good luck than talent; instead of making himself a party among
the great Neapolitan and Calabrian vassals, whose roots would be
embedded in the very soil, by confirming their privileges and augmenting
their power, he had wounded their feelings by bestowing all the titles,
offices, and fiefs on those alone who had followed him from France, so
that all the important positions in the kingdom were filled by
strangers.
The result was that just when the league was made known, Tropea and
Amantea, which had been presented by Charles to the Seigneur de Precy,
rose in revolt and hoisted the banner of Aragon; and the Spanish fleet
had only to present itself at Reggio, in Calabria, for the town to throw
open its gates, being more discontented with the new rule than the old;
and Don Federiga, Alfonso’s brother and Ferdinand’s uncle, who had
hitherto never quitted Brindisi, had only to appear at Tarentum to be
received there as a liberator.