I was extremely concerned at these orders, especially as I had to depart

before I could set the treaty of peace on foot again; for I was sensible

in what condition the town was. I saw winter approaching, and apprehended

lest the prelates[444] should bring the king to a new battle, in which

(unless mightily supplied from Switzerland) he would be probably too

weak, and if the supplies were as numerous as they were reported to be,

it would not be safe for the king to venture himself in their hands;

besides, the enemy were powerful, strongly encamped, and very well

fortified. Upon these considerations, I presumed to tell the king that,

in my judgment, he was about to put himself and his kingdom in very great

hazard, upon a small and trifling occasion; that the danger which he

escaped at the battle of Fornovo ought not to be forgotten, but that

there he was under necessity, and here he was not. Wherefore I did humbly

recommend him not to lose an honourable accommodation by stickling for

the first overture; and if he pleased to authorise me, I questioned not

but I could make a peace without the least dishonour to either side. He

replied that he would have me speak to the Cardinal; and so I did, but

he gave me strange unaccountable answers, expressing an inclination to

fight, and making sure of the victory; and he told me the Duke of Orleans

had promised, whenever he came to the duchy of Milan, to give him ten

thousand ducats a year for one of his sons. The next morning I went to

wait on the king, and take leave of his majesty, in order to begin my

journey to Casale (which would take me about a day and a half). I there

met the Lord de la Trimouille, and acquainted him with what had passed

(he being related to the king[445]), and desired his judgment whether

I ought to mention the affair to him again; he told me to do so by all

means, for everybody was very desirous of peace. The king was at that

time in the garden; so I revived the discourse before the Cardinal,

who told me that it was most proper for him, being an ecclesiastic, to

begin it. I answered, if he did not, I would; for I perceived the king

was inclinable enough, and so were all that were about him. After which

I took my leave; and at my departure I told the Prince of Orange (who

commanded the army in chief), that if I began anything in that business,

my addresses should be to him; and so I went to Casale, where I was

well received by all that family, and found them nearly all in favour

of the Lord Constantine, as a fitter person for the guardianship of the

children; for he was incapable of the succession, to which the Marquis of

Saluzzo pretended a right. For several days together, I assembled both

the nobility, clergy, and townsmen, and, at the request of most of them,

I declared that it was my master’s pleasure that the Lord Constantine

should be continued in the government; for, considering the king’s forces

on that side of the mountains, and the affection that country had always

retained to the court of France, I presumed they would not contradict the

king’s desires.

I had scarce been three days at Casale before there arrived a gentleman

from the Marquis of Mantua, captain-general of the Venetians, with

compliments of condolence upon the death of the late Marchioness; for he

was related to the family of Montferrat. This gentleman was steward of

the marquis’s household, and he and I by degrees began to consult how we

might prevent the battle that was likely to occur shortly; for all things

tended to war, and the king was encamped not far from Vercelli; though,

to speak the truth, he had only passed the river, and let his army encamp

there, which was but ill-provided with tents and pavilions, for they had

brought but few with them, and those few were lost; besides, the ground

was moist,—for winter was coming on, and the country is but low.

The king lay but one night in the camp, and returned next morning to

the town; but the Prince of Orange remained with the army, and with

him the Counts of Foix and Vendôme[446], the latter of whom fell into

a dysentery and died, to the unspeakable sorrow of the whole army, for

he was a young gentleman of great valour and conduct, and came thither

post upon the report of a coming battle; but he was not with the king in

his expedition into Italy. There were likewise the Marshal de Gié, and

several other commanders, but their principal force was the Swiss, who

had been in Italy with the king; for the French, being so near home, were

very unwilling to stay any longer in the camp, and several had already

left it, some with leave and others without it. From Vercelli to Novara

was ten good Italian miles, that is six French leagues; the country was

flat and dirty, with ditches on both sides the road, much deeper than

those in Flanders: in winter the roads are full of mud, and in summer of

dust. Between our army and Novara there was a little town called Borgo,

which we had taken possession of; and the enemy had another about the

same distance from their camp, called Cameri: but the waters being up,

the passage was very difficult from one army to the other.

But as I was saying, the steward of the Marquis of Mantua’s household and

I continued our conferences. I gave him several reasons why his master

ought to be cautious of coming to a battle. I put him in mind of the

danger he had lately escaped, and that he would expose himself for a

people who had never rewarded him for services he had done; and that,

therefore, his wisest method would be to endeavour an accommodation, and

I promised to do all that lay in my power to promote it. He replied that

his master was well enough inclined, but that it would be necessary (as I

had received intimation before) that we should make the first overture,

because they looked upon their alliance, which consisted of the Pope,

the King of the Romans, the King of Spain, and the Duke of Milan, to be

of greater dignity than a single monarch. I answered that this punctilio

was idle and trifling, and that in justice our king was to be preferred,

because he was there in person, and the confederates were represented

only by their lieutenants. But I offered, if he pleased, that he and I as

mediators would set the treaty on foot, provided I could be assured his

master would continue it, and observe it; and finally it was concluded

that I should send a trumpeter to their army the next morning, and that I

should write to Signor Luca Pisani and Signor Melchior Trevisano, the two

Venetian proveditors, or commissioners appointed to advise their generals

and superintend the affairs of the army.

In pursuance of what we concluded, I wrote to the proveditors the

substance of what I had mentioned before to the Marquis of Mantua’s

steward; and I had a fair opportunity to offer my mediation, upon account

of the agreement made between us at my departure from Venice. Besides,

I knew the king was desirous of peace, and I thought it necessary,—for

there are always enough persons to perplex and exasperate an affair,

but few that combine the good fortune and courage necessary to compose

so great a difference, or to endure so many hard words as are said by

the plenipotentiaries in such negotiations; for in great armies there

is sure to be a variety of opinions. The proveditors were glad of the

news, and sent me word I should have an answer very suddenly, for they

sent post to Venice for instructions; and having a speedy answer from

the Signory, a count belonging to the Duke of Ferrara was sent to our

camp. The Duke of Ferrara had one son in the Duke of Milan’s service,

and another in the king’s. The count also was in the Duke of Milan’s

service, his name was Albertini[447]; but his pretence of coming into our

army was to visit Signor John James di Trivulce, and to inquire after one

of his sons who was then in that captain’s service. He made application

to the Prince of Orange, according to the agreement between the steward

and myself, and told him he had a commission from the Marquis of Mantua,

and the proveditors and other captains, to desire a passport for the

marquis and fifty horse, to meet and confer with such persons as the king

should depute; and he acknowledged that in reason they ought to make the

first overture to the king, or such as he should appoint, and that they

would pay him that honour; and then he desired he might have a private

conference with his majesty, which was granted him, and in which he

advised him not to set any treaty on foot, assuring him that their army

was in great consternation, and would break up in a very short time. By

these words he seemed desirous to obstruct that peace which he was sent

to promote, though his public commission was as you have heard. Signor

John James di Trivulce was present when he gave the king this advice, and

being a great enemy to the Duke of Milan, he had no mind to the peace;

but, above all, no man was so averse to it as Count Albertini’s master,

the Duke of Ferrara, who desired the continuation of the war upon account

of an old pique against the Venetians, who had taken from him several

territories, as the Polesan and others; and this duke was therefore come

himself into the army of the Duke of Milan, who had married his daughter.

As soon as the king had heard what the count had to offer, his majesty

sent for me, and it was warmly debated whether a passport should be

granted or not. Those who were against the peace (as Signor John James

di Trivulce and others, who thought themselves great favourers of the

interest of the Duke of Orleans,) were for fighting by all means; but

they were, most of them, churchmen, and not like to be in the battle,

and they pretended to have certain intelligence that the enemy must

suddenly raise the siege, or be starved to death. Others objected (and

I was of that number) that we should be starved first; that the enemy

were in their own country, and their power too great to be so easily

destroyed; and that such counsel proceeded from persons who had a mind

to engage us in their quarrels, and set us fighting purely to gratify

their own revenge and ambition. Yet, for all this, the passport was

granted and sent, signifying, that the next day at two o’clock in the

afternoon, the Prince of Orange, the Marshal de Gié, the Lord de Piennes,

and myself, with our retinue, should be between Borgo and Cameri, near

a certain tower, in which they had a guard, and that there we should be

ready to enter into a conference. At the appointed hour, we went to the

place under a strong guard. The Marquis of Mantua and a Venetian who

had the command of their Estradiots[448], came to us, and in very civil

language told us, that for their part they were desirous of peace. For

better convenience of treating, it was agreed, that the next day some of

their deputies should come into our camp, and that the day after some

of ours should go into theirs, which was done. The next morning there

came to us Signor Francisco Bernardino Visconti on behalf of the Duke of

Milan, and a secretary from the Marquis of Mantua. On our side, besides

the persons above mentioned, we had added to us the Cardinal of St.

Malo, and we began to treat. They demanded Novara, in which the Duke of

Orleans was besieged; and we insisted upon having Genoa, saying, it was

feudatory to the king, and that the Duke of Milan had confiscated it.

They excused themselves as to that, assuring us that their master had

done nothing against the king except in his own defence; that the Duke

of Orleans had taken Novara from them by force, and begun the war with

our king’s forces; and that therefore they thought their masters would be

hardly persuaded to agree to these demands, but in any thing else would

be ready to comply. Our conferences lasted two days, after which they

returned to their camp, whither the Marshal de Gié, the Lord de Piennes,

and myself, were sent after them to press for the restitution of Genoa.

We would have been content that Novara should have been surrendered to

the forces of the King of the Romans, which were commanded by Signor

George di Pietraplanta[449], the Lord Frederic Capellare, and another

called Monsieur Hans; for we found it could not be relieved without a

battle, which we had no great inclination to venture; and by this means

(as we pretended) we proposed to acquit ourselves very honourably to the

emperor, of whom the whole duchy of Milan is held as a fief. Several

goings and comings there were between our camp and theirs, but we came to

no manner of conclusion. I continued constantly with them by the king’s

direction (who was unwilling the treaty should be broken off); and, at

last, our deputies came to them again, and with us we had the President

de Gannay, and one Monsieur de Morvilliers, Bailiff of Amiens, to speak

with them in Latin, (for till then I had conducted the conferences in

bad Italian,) and to draw up the articles. Our manner of treating was

to go to the duke’s quarters, and he, in complaisance, used to meet us

with his duchess at the end of a gallery, and then sent us all before

him into his chamber, where there were two great rows of chairs ready

set, as close as was convenient, and opposite to each other. They placed

themselves on one side, and we sate on the other. The first on their

side was the commissioner for the King of the Romans, then the Spanish

ambassador, then the Marquis of Mantua, after him the two proveditors,

then the Venetian ambassador, then the Duke and Duchess of Milan, and

last of all the ambassador of Ferrara. On their side none spoke but the

Duke of Milan, and on our side nobody but one. It is not our method to

discourse with that sedateness of temper which they do, for sometimes two

or three of us were speaking at a time; but the duke always interrupted

us with, “Hold, gentlemen, one to one.” As we were obliged to digest all

into articles, whatever was agreed upon was immediately put into writing

by one of our secretaries for us, and by another of theirs for them; and

this was read aloud by the secretaries, one in Italian, and the other in

French; and this was done again at our next meeting, that we might see

whether any thing had been changed; and it is a good way to dispatch any

affair of importance. This treaty was in progress about a fortnight or

longer; but the first day of our conference it was concluded that the

Duke of Orleans might have liberty to come out of Novara, to which end a

cessation of arms was agreed upon for that day, and continued from day

to day till the conclusion of the peace; and for surety for the passage

of the Duke of Orleans, the Marquis of Mantua delivered himself as a

hostage into the hands of the Count de Foix; and he did it voluntarily,

and more to give us pleasure than from any fear; yet first they made us

swear that we were proceeding with sincerity and _bona fides_ in the

treaty of peace, and that we did not do it merely to deliver the duke out

of danger.

CH. XVII.—How the Duke of Orleans and his Army were delivered upon Terms

of Accommodation from the dire Misery they suffered during their being

besieged in Novara; and of the Arrival of the Swiss that came to the

Relief of the King and the said Duke of Orleans.—1495.

The Marshal de Gié went into the town of Novara, with other commissioners

deputed by the Duke of Milan, and dismissed the Duke of Orleans, and

some few of his attendants, to their very great satisfaction. Those who

were in the place were so pressed with hunger and sickness, that the

marshal was forced to leave his nephew Monsieur de Romefort[450] as

an hostage, promising they should all be at liberty to depart within

three days. You have heard how the Bailiff of Dijon had been sent into

Switzerland to raise five thousand men in all the cantons; but when the

Duke of Orleans marched out of Novara they were not arrived; and it was

well they were not, for had they joined our army, certainly (at least

in my judgment) we should have fought a battle; but if we had been sure

that their number would be far greater than we expected, we could not

have stayed till their arrival, by reason of the extreme famine in the

town, where two thousand people were already dead, some with hunger,

some with disease, and the rest were so lean and meagre they looked more

like dead than living people; and, truly, I believe never men endured

more misery (unless, perhaps, at the siege of Jerusalem). All which had

been prevented, if they had been so prudent as to have brought in all

the corn and provisions about the town upon their first coming into it:

had they acted so wisely they had never plunged themselves into those

exigencies, for the enemy would have been obliged to have abandoned the

siege, and to have marched shamefully off.

Some three or four days after the Duke of Orleans had left the town,

it was agreed on both sides that the whole garrison should march out;

and the Marquis of Mantua, and the Lord Galeas di San Severino, (who

commanded both the Venetians and the Duke of Milan’s army,) had orders to

see them safely conducted away; which was performed, and the town left in

the hands of the inhabitants, under an oath not to deliver it either to

the French or the Italians till the conclusion of a general peace. Only

thirty men were put into the castle, who were supplied with provisions by

the Duke of Milan, for money, and they were never to have more provision

at a time than was sufficient for one single day. No man that did not

see it, can conceive the poverty of the garrison that marched out. They

had few or no horses left, for most of them were eaten; and of the five

thousand men that marched out, scarcely six hundred were able to defend

themselves; they fell down frequently in the road as they marched along,

and the enemy were forced to help them up again. I know I saved fifty

of them, at the cost of a crown, not far from the little castle called

Cameri, which was in the enemy’s possession, by lodging them in a garden,

and giving them warm broth, so that but one of them died. Upon the way

(it being ten miles between Novara and Vercelli) four more of them died.

The king (as a token of his compassion) caused eight hundred francs to

be distributed amongst those who came to Vercelli, as a benevolence in

addition to their pay, which was paid to a farthing, both to the living

and the dead, and particularly to the Swiss, of whom there were near four

hundred dead; yet, notwithstanding all the care that could be taken of

them, about thirty of them died in Vercelli, some with eating too much,

others by diseases, and some on the dunghills of the town.

About the time that all of them had evacuated the town, except the thirty

left in the castle (and of these one or other came away every day), the

Swiss arrived, to the number of eight or ten thousand, in our camp, in

which we had already about two thousand who had served in our expedition

to Naples. There were also ten thousand more, but they were quartered at

some distance from Vercelli; for the king was advised not to suffer the

conjunction of two such great bodies, which would have amounted together

to twenty-two thousand men, the greatest number (I think) that ever came

out of their country at one time; and I have been informed by those that

were well acquainted with the affairs of Switzerland, that they scarce

left any fighting men behind them; and those who did come, came for the

most part, in spite of our teeth, and their wives and children would

also have come along with them, had we not set guards upon the passes

in Piedmont on purpose to stop them. It may be demanded whether this

extraordinary alacrity proceeded from any extraordinary affection; for

King Louis XI. had done them many good offices, and contributed much to

make them a reputation in the world. Indeed there were some old soldiers

who had a respect for the memory of King Louis; and some of their

officers were above seventy-two years old, and had been captains in the

wars against Charles Duke of Burgundy; but the chief motives that induced

them to leave their own country were avarice and poverty. To speak truth,

all their best men came to us; and such a number of brave fellows I had

never seen before together in my life; and to me it seemed impossible to

conquer them, unless by cold, famine, or some other distress.

But to return to the principal point of our treaty. The Duke of Orleans

having lived eight or ten days at his ease and pleasure, and being

attended by all sorts of people, was told that it had been stated, as

some diminution to his honour, that such a numerous garrison as he had in

Novara should have been reduced to such necessities; upon which he began

to talk of fighting again, and one or two that were about him encouraged

him to it. Monsieur de Ligny and the Archbishop of Rouen were highly for

his interest; and some mean persons bribed thirty of the Swiss to come

of themselves and offer the enemy battle; but without any reason, for

the Duke of Orleans had only thirty men left in the castle, and there

was no further occasion to fight, for the king pretended no quarrel of

his own, but had come thither only to rescue the duke and his friends;

besides the enemy were very powerful, and it was impossible to attack

them in their camp; for besides the natural strength of the place, they

were strongly entrenched, all the ditches were full of water, and there

were no forces but ours to give them any disturbance, as no sallies

could be expected out of the town. Their army consisted of two thousand

eight hundred men-at-arms barbed, five thousand light horse, and eleven

thousand five hundred Germans commanded by good officers (as Signor

George di Pietraplanta, Count Frederic Capellare, and Monsieur Hans),

besides a great number of foot; so that to talk of attacking them in

their entrenchments, or beating them so easily, was but a rhodomontade,

and spoken in flattery. Another great dread we had, and that was, lest

the Swiss should join in one body, and seize upon the king and all the

chief officers of his army (who were not able to resist their power), and

carry them into their own country; and of this there was some appearance,

as you will see by the conclusion of the peace.

CH. XVIII.—How Peace was concluded between the King and the Duke of

Orleans on the one Part, and the League on the other; and of the

Conditions and Articles contained in that Treaty of Peace.—1495.

The debate about this affair grew at last so fierce amongst us, that,

in the heat of argument, the Duke of Orleans gave the Prince of Orange

the lie; but at last, the Marshal de Gié, the Lord de Piennes, the

President Gannay, the Lord de Morvilliers, the Vidame of Chartres[451],

and I, returned to the enemy’s camp, and concluded a peace[452], though

by several indications we judged it unlikely to continue long; but we

were under a necessity of doing it, both in respect of the season of the

year, our want of money, and that we might come off honourably in the

business; to which end the peace was concluded and engrossed, so that it

might be published throughout the world, which was done afterwards by

the king’s express order in council, and in the presence of the Duke of

Orleans. The substance of it was, that the Duke of Milan should serve

the king against all opposers; that, at his own proper charge, the Duke

of Milan should fit out two ships for the relief of the castles of

Naples, which still held out for the king; that the next year (in case

the king made a new invasion upon that kingdom), he should furnish him

with three ships, and assist him in person, and give free passage to his

troops; that in case the Venetians did not accept the said peace within

two months’ time, but continued to assist the House of Aragon, the duke

should then take part with the King of France against them, and employ

his person and interest in his service, upon condition that whatever was

taken from the enemy should be delivered to the duke, for which terms he

was to remit to the king eighty thousand of the hundred and twenty-four

thousand ducats which he had lent him in his voyage to Naples; that with

regard to Genoa, he should put two hostages into the king’s hands; that

Castelleto should be committed to the Duke of Ferrara, as a neutral, for

two years; that the Duke of Milan should pay one-half of the garrison of

Castelleto, and the king the other; and that if it should happen that

the duke should at any time attempt to do any thing against the king at

Genoa, then the Duke of Ferrara was to deliver Castelleto to the king. He

was likewise to give two hostages for Milan, which was performed; and he

would have done as much for Genoa, had not the king been in such haste

to be gone; but as soon as he went away, the duke made use of shifts and

evasions to excuse himself from doing it.

Immediately upon our return from swearing the Duke of Milan to observe

this peace, and bringing word that the Venetians had taken two months to

accept or refuse (for to other terms we could not persuade them), the

king swore likewise to observe the peace; and the next day he resolved

to begin his march, as both he and his whole army had a great desire to

return into France; but that very night the Swiss who were in our camp

began to cabal, and hold private consultations among the men of their

several cantons, beating their drums and standing to their arms (as

their manner is when they call any councils); and this I was informed of

by Monsieur de Lornay, who was then (and had been long before) one of

their chief officers, and was well acquainted with their language, and he

gave the king intelligence of it.

Some proposed to seize upon the king, and all the chief (that is to say,

the rich) officers of the army; others went not so far, but moved that

they should demand three months’ pay, on the score of an old promise

made them by the late king[453], that such a sum should be paid them

whenever they came out of their own country into his service with their

colours displayed. Others were for securing the chief ministers about the

king, without meddling with his person; and this they designed to put in

execution, having already got a great number of their own troops into the

town; but before they could come to an agreement among themselves, the

king had left for Trino[454] (which is a town belonging to the Marquis

of Montferrat). In this they were much in the wrong, for there was never

but one month’s pay promised them, and they had done nothing for that. At

length, this troublesome affair was adjusted; but first, those Swiss who

were with us in the expedition to Naples, had seized upon the Bailiff of

Dijon and Monsieur de Lornay (who commanded them all along), and pressed

hard for a fortnight’s pay before they marched; but the rest insisted

upon pay for three months, which in all amounted to five hundred thousand

francs, for the raising of which they took hostages; and to this they

were animated by the French themselves, who were averse to the peace; and

of this the Prince of Orange was informed by one of their captains, and

he immediately informed the king of it.

The king, upon his arrival at Trino, sent the Marshal de Gié, the

President Gannay, and myself, to the Duke of Milan, to desire that he

would come to him thither. We used several arguments to persuade him,

and told him it would be a great confirmation of the peace; but he gave

as many to the contrary, and excused himself upon a proposition which

Monsieur de Ligny had formerly made to have him seized upon, when he was

with the king at Pavia, and upon certain expressions which the Cardinal

of St. Malo had used, who, at that time, was the only minister who had

influence with the king. It is certain that several idle words had been

spoken by some about the court, but yet the king had a great desire to

cultivate a friendship with him. The Duke of Milan was at a place called

Bolia[455], and consented to a conference, provided it might be upon some

river, with a barrier between them.[456] As soon as the king had received

his answer, he removed to Quiers[457] where he staid but a night or two,

and then marched away to cross the mountains, having despatched me to

Venice, and others to Genoa, to see the ships equipped which the Duke

of Milan was to lend him; but the duke put the king to great expense in

preparations, and at last would not let them go; but instead of keeping

his promise, he sent two ships to the enemy.

CH. XIX.—How the King sent the Lord of Argenton to Venice again, to

invite the Venetians to accept the Terms of Peace that were offered,

which the Venetians refused; and of the Tricks and Jugglings of the Duke

of Milan.—1495.

The business of my embassy to Venice at this time was to know whether

they would accept the peace, and subscribe to three articles. The first

was to restore Monopoli, which they had lately taken from us; the second

was to withdraw the Marquis of Mantua and his forces out of the kingdom

of Naples, and from the service of King Ferrand; and the third was to

declare that King Ferrand was not comprehended in their recent league,

in which mention was made only of the Pope, the King of the Romans, the

King of Spain, and the Duke of Milan. Upon my arrival at Venice they

received me very honourably, but not quite in the same manner as when

I was there first,—for then we were at peace, but now at war with each

other. I delivered my message to the Doge of Venice, who complimented me

highly, and told me I was very welcome; and that he would consult with

the Senate, and in a short time return me an answer.

For three days together they appointed solemn processions to be made,

public alms to be given, and sermons to be preached all over the city,

beseeching God of His grace to direct them in their consultations,

which, as I was informed, was no more than what they frequently do upon

extraordinary occasions. And truly, in religious affairs, and in the

beautifying and adorning their churches, it is a city of the greatest

reverence and decency that ever I saw; and in these things I esteem them

equal to the Romans, and I question not but that their Signory derives

much of its grandeur from this fact, and it is worthy rather to be

augmented than lessened. But to the business of my embassy. I waited a

fortnight before I had an answer, and then it was a refusal of all I had

demanded. They told me they had no war with the king, and that what they

had done was only to assist and support the Duke of Milan, who was their

ally, and whom the king had a desire to destroy; yet they permitted their

Doge to talk with me alone, and he offered very advantageous terms, which

were, that King Ferrand should do homage to our king for the kingdom of

Naples, by the Pope’s consent; that King Ferrand should pay our king a

yearly tribute of fifty thousand ducats, besides a sum of money down,

which they would lend (intending to have the towns of Brindisi, Otranto,

Trani, and others in Apulia, put into their hands for security for the

said loan); and that King Ferrand should deliver up or leave the king

in possession of some towns or places in Apulia for his security (and

they meant Tarento, which our king has still in his hands[458]), and

(if he pleased) two or three more, which they offered should be on that

side, because it was farthest from them, though they pretended it was

for the convenience of his designs against the Turk, of which our king

had talked much at his first entrance into Italy, declaring he undertook

that enterprise for no other end but to be nearer and more ready to

invade him; but it was an evil invention, a mere fraud, and we cannot

conceal our thoughts from God. The Doge of Venice offered besides, that

if our king would attempt any thing against the Turk, he should have free

passage for his troops, through all those places; and all Italy should

contribute: the King of the Romans would make a diversion on his side;

and the king, in conjunction with them, would be able to govern all

Italy, in such a manner as to compel any of the princes as should refuse,

to comply with their orders; and that for their part they would assist

his majesty, at their own charge, with a hundred galleys at sea, and five

thousand horse on land.

When I had my audience of leave, I told the Doge and Signory I would

report all faithfully to the king. I returned by Milan, and found the

Duke of Milan at Vigevano, and the king’s ambassador with him, who was

one Rigault d’Oreilles[459], steward to his household. The duke pretended

to go a hunting, and came out to meet me (for they are very civil to

ambassadors) and ordered me a very noble apartment in his castle. I

begged that I might have the honour of a private conference with him,

which at last he promised me, but with some signs of reluctancy. As the

castle of Naples still held out for us, I was resolved to press for the

ships with which he was bound to furnish us by the treaty at Vercelli.

The ships were ready, and he was willing in appearance to send them out,

but Peron de Basche and Stephen de Neves being at that time at Genoa

on behalf of our king, and understanding I was at Vigevano, wrote to

me immediately, complaining of the Duke of Milan’s treacherous way of

dealing, who pretended to furnish us with ships and had sent two against

us; that the governor of Genoa had told them one day that he could not

suffer the ships to be manned with French sailors, and another, that

there could not be above five and twenty of them permitted to be in any

one vessel, with many such trifling excuses to protract and gain time,

till they had heard the news of the capture of the castle of Naples, in

which the Duke of Milan knew there was not provision enough for above a

month, and that the king’s forces in Provence would be unable to raise

the siege without the assistance of those two ships, for the enemy

had blocked up the castle by sea with a great fleet furnished by the

Venetians and the King of Spain as well as by themselves.

I was three days with the duke; the first he spent most in conference

with me, and seemed to be angry that I was not satisfied with his answer

about the ships, to which he added that though at the treaty of Vercelli

he had promised to serve the king with two ships, yet he had never

promised that they should be manned with French. I replied, that in my

judgment that excuse was but weak and trifling, for if he should lend

me a good mule with which to pass the mountains, what favour would it

be if he should oblige me to lead her by the hand? I should only have

liberty to see her, but no advantage unless I had leave to mount her.

After a long conference he conducted me into a gallery apart, where I

took occasion to remonstrate the great pains which other’s and myself

had taken about the treaty of Vercelli; and the danger he would bring

upon us by acting so contrary, and causing the king to lose his castles

in Naples, which would be the total loss of the kingdom, and an occasion

of perpetual animosity between my master and him, and I offered him the

principality of Tarento, and the duchy of Bari, which duchy was already

his own. I represented to him the danger he brought upon himself and

all Italy by consenting that the Venetians should hold those places in

Apulia; and he confessed that what I had urged was true, especially in

relation to the Venetians, but told me plainly at last he could repose no

confidence in our king.

After this discourse I took my leave of the Duke of Milan, who conducted

me a league on my way home, and even at my departure he invented a more

cunning lie (if it be decent to use such an expression towards a prince)

than any of his former falsehoods. Perceiving I was melancholy, he told

me on a sudden (as a man who had quite changed his resolutions) that

he would show himself my friend at the last, and do that which should

make me acceptable to my master; and he promised me that the next day he

would send the Lord Galeas (who was the fittest man for that purpose)

to see his ships at Genoa equipped and sent away to join our fleet;

that he would do the king that service so as to save his castle, and

by consequence the whole kingdom of Naples (and if he had performed

his promise, this would have been the result); and that when the ships

had sailed he would give me an account of it by a letter under his own

hand, that the king might have the first news of it from myself, and

be sensible of the service which I had done him, adding also that his

letters should overtake me before I got to Lyons. Big with these hopes I

departed, and continued my journey over the mountains. I knew the man,

and durst not be too confident; yet I never heard any courier behind

me, but I fancied he was bringing me those letters. I passed on till I

came to Chambery, where I found the Duke of Savoy, who received me very

graciously, and obliged me to stay a whole day with him. From thence

I proceeded to Lyons (but no letters overtook me) to give the king an

account of my transactions; for he was there at that time, giving himself

up wholly to feastings, jousts, and other gay entertainments, without the

least regard to anything else.

Those who had been enemies to the peace of Vercelli were extremely

pleased with the Duke of Milan’s prevarication; and indeed they had

reason, for their authority was increased by it, and I was traduced,

which in the like cases is an ordinary thing in the courts of princes.

I was very melancholy and angry: I informed the king of all I had done,

and showed him in writing the offers which the Venetians had made him;

but he seemed not to value them much, and the Cardinal of St. Malo, who

at that time had the sole administration of affairs, valued them still

less. However, I pressed the king again, believing it better to accept

that offer than lose all; for I saw nobody about him fit to manage such

an important affair, and those who were most able were never consulted,

or at least as seldom as possible. The king himself was inclinable enough

to do it, but loth to displease those to whom he had committed his

affairs, especially those who managed his treasury, namely, the Cardinal,

his brothers and relations. This is a fine example for princes. It is

necessary that they should take upon themselves the conduct of their

own affairs, and not only call others to council upon occasion, but

give them equal authority and countenance in certain matters; for if any

minister of state be grown so great as to became terrible to the rest,

and to manage the whole affairs of a kingdom according to his own will

and pleasure (of which sort King Charles VIII. was never without one)

that minister is king in reality, and his master is ill served, as King

Charles was always by his ministers, who did their own business well

enough, but neglected his, to his great prejudice and dishonour.

CH. XX.—How the King forgot those that were left behind at Naples, upon

his Return into France; and of the Dauphin’s Death, which was a great

Affliction to the King and Queen.—1495.

I arrived at Lyons on the 12th of December, in the year 1495: and there

I found the king and his whole army. The king had been absent on his

expedition about a year and two months.[460] The castles of Naples

still held out for him, as you have heard. The Lord de Montpensier, his

lieutenant in that kingdom, was at Salerno with the prince of that place;

the Lord d’Aubigny was in Calabria, where he had done signal service,

though under a long fit of sickness; the Lord Gracian des Guerres was in

Abruzzo, Don Julian at Mount St. Angelo, and George de Suilly at Tarento;

but all of them most miserably poor, and so far abandoned by our court

that they could seldom or never receive letters or news out of France,

and when they did, it was nothing but shams and promises without effect;

for (as I said before) the king did nothing of himself. If they had

been supplied with money in time, even a sixth part of what was spent

afterwards to no purpose would have saved that kingdom from being lost;

for at length when all was lost, they sent them forty thousand crowns as

part of a year’s pay, and yet if that had arrived but a month sooner,

the calamities and disgraces which they endured had never befallen

them, and their divisions had been prevented; all which was occasioned

through the negligence of the king, who managed nothing himself, and

would not so much as hear anybody that came from them, and those whom he

employed were careless and inexperienced, and I think some of them held a

correspondence with the Pope; so that in appearance God had forsaken our

king, and taken away that grace with which He had hitherto conducted him.

The king had not been at Lyons above two months, or thereabouts, when he

received news that his only son, the dauphin, lay dangerously ill; and

three days after, letters came that gave an account of his death.[461]

The king was extremely concerned at first, as he ought to have been out

of paternal affection; yet his sorrow soon wore off. But the queen (who

was Anne, Duchess of Bretagne) took it more to heart than perhaps any

other woman would have done, and her sorrow remained longer upon her;

and I am afraid, that besides the natural affliction of mothers upon the

loss of their children, her mind misgave her, and she was apprehensive

that some greater misfortune would soon happen to her. The king (as I

said before) having got over his own grief, had a great desire to give

the queen some diversion at a ball of young gentlemen, which the king had

appointed; among the rest of the dancers, the Duke of Orleans was one,

who was at that time about thirty-four years old[462]; but he behaved

himself so, that it was visible to all the court he rejoiced at the

dauphin’s death, for he was (after him) next heir to the crown. Wherefore

the king and he never spoke to one another for a long time after. The

dauphin was about three years old when he died, yet a very handsome and

precocious child, and not alarmed at those things wherewith children are

usually frighted; for which reason his father was the sooner recovered

from his sorrow, as being fearful already lest he should have grown too

fast, and lest, if his courage increased with his years, he would have

entrenched upon his father’s power and authority; for the king was not

commanding either in person or understanding, but of the mildest and best

disposition in the world. By this example we may see to what miseries

great kings and princes, who grow jealous of their own children, are

subject. His father, Louis XI., though so wise and virtuous a prince,

was yet fearful of Charles VIII., but he provided prudently against the

worst, and left him the crown when he was but fourteen years old. Louis

XI. had been no less terrible to his father Charles VII., for at the

age of thirteen years he was in arms, and confederated against him with

certain of the nobility, upon some court-quarrels[463] and complaints

against the government, (and this King Louis has often told me himself,)

yet these troubles lasted not long. But when he came to man’s estate,

he had great controversy with his father Charles VII., retired into

Dauphiny, and from thence into Flanders, leaving Dauphiny to his father,

as has been observed at the beginning of these Memoirs[464], in relating

the reign of Louis XI.

No creature is exempt from adversity; every man eats his bread in pain

and sorrow: God Almighty promised it to our first parents, and he has

performed it very faithfully ever since to all people. Yet there are

degrees and distinctions of sorrow, and the troubles and vexations of the

mind are greater than those of the body; the anxiety of the wise is of

one sort, and that of the fool of another, but that of the fool is the

greater of the two (though some are of a contrary opinion) because he is

less capable of comfort.

The poor people, who labour, drudge and toil to maintain themselves and

their children, and pay their taxes and subsidies to their princes, would

have but little comfort in this world if princes and great lords were

sensible of nothing but pleasure, and they of nothing but sorrow and

misery. But the thing is quite otherwise; for, should I endeavour to give

an account of the sufferings and disorders which (for these thirty years)

I have seen endured by persons of quality of both sexes, it would swell

to a large volume. I do not mean such persons as Boccace mentions in his

book[465], but such as raise the envy of all people, by their riches,

health, and prosperity. Those who have not conversed with them so much

as I have done, believe the condition of great persons to be the happiest

in the world; but I have seen their troubles and disquiets, aroused upon

such trifling occasions, as persons at a distance could hardly believe;

an idle apprehension or an extravagant report disturbs them extremely;

and this is the secret distemper that reigns in the courts of great

princes, from whence many mischiefs arise to the sovereign, his ministers

and subjects; and it is so great a shortener of life, that there is

scarce a king of France (since the time of Charlemagne) who lived to be

sixty years old.

Upon this bare suspicion, when Louis XI. came to be about that age,

being sick of that disease, he concluded himself already dead. His

father Charles VII., who had done so many memorable things in France,

took a fancy that his courtiers had a design to poison him, and upon

that account he ate nothing. Charles VI. had his jealousies too, and

became crazed in his understanding upon a mere report. Certainly, princes

are guilty of great error in not examining, or causing other people to

examine, such tales as concern them, though, perhaps, they may be of

themselves of no great importance; but this would keep them from being so

frequently current, especially if they confronted the accused with the

informer; by that means nothing would be reported but what was true. But

there are some princes so stupid as to promise and swear to the accusers

they will never discover them; and these are they who are subject to

those anguishes and torments of mind of which I speak and who many times

hate and injure the best ministers they have, upon the bare reports

and calumnies of evil-minded and designing people, by which means they

occasion great mischiefs and sorrows to their subjects.

CH. XXI.—How the King received News of the Loss of the Castle of Naples;

of the selling of the Towns belonging to the Florentines to several

Persons; of the Treaty of Atella in Apulia, much to the Prejudice of the

French; and of the Death of Ferrand, King of Naples.—1496.

The death of the Dauphin (only son to Charles VIII.), occurred about the

beginning of the year 1496, and was the greatest loss that happened or

could possibly happen to the king, for he had never any child afterwards

that lived. But this misfortune came not alone; for at the same time he

received advice that the castle of Naples had been surrendered by those

whom the Lord de Montpensier had left in it, under pressure of famine,

and for the safety of the hostages, who had been delivered into the

enemy’s hands by the Lord de Montpensier. The names of the hostages were

Monsieur d’Alegre, one of the sons of the Lord de la Marche d’Ardaine,

one called the Lord de la Chapelle de Loudonnois, and John Roquebertin,

a Catalonian.[466] Those who had been in the castle were sent back again

by sea. After this, another disgraceful accident befel him, and that was,

that one Entragues, who was governor of the citadel of Pisa (which was

strong, and commanded the whole town), delivered it up to the Pisans;

which was contrary to the king’s oath, for he had sworn twice to the

Florentines to deliver the said citadel to them, and other places, as

Sarzana, Sarzanello, Pietrasanta, Librefatta, and Mortron, which the

Florentines had lent the king in his necessities, at his first coming

into Italy, and had given him six score thousand ducats, of which there

were not above thirty thousand in arrear when he returned into France,

as has been mentioned in another place.[467] In short, all these places

were sold; the Genoese bought Sarzana and Sarzanello, and they were sold

by the Bastard of St. Paul.[468] Monsieur Entragues sold Pietrasanta

to the citizens of Lucca[469], and Librefatta to the Venetians, to the

great dishonour of the king and his subjects, and to the detriment and

I may say destruction of the kingdom of Naples. The first oath King

Charles VIII. took for the restitution of those places was at Florence,

upon the high altar in the great church of St. John; the second was

at Asti, on his return, where the Florentines furnished him in his

extremity with thirty thousand ducats, upon condition that if Pisa were

surrendered to them, the king should be discharged of the said sum, and

all his jewels and pawns should be restored; and they were to lend him

threescore thousand more, to be paid down in the kingdom of Naples,

to those whom his majesty had appointed to manage his affairs there,

and to maintain at their charge three hundred horse for the service of

our king in the kingdom of Naples, which were to continue there during

the whole expedition; but upon the selling of Pisa and the rest of the

towns all was at an end, and the king was obliged to repay the thirty

thousand ducats which the Florentines had lent him, and all this by the

disobedience and whisperings of some persons about the king, who had

given private encouragement to Entragues to act thus in the business.

About the same time, in the beginning of the year 1496, the Lord de

Montpensier, the Lord Virgil Ursini, Signor Camillo Vitelli, and the

rest of the French officers, seeing that all was lost, took the field,

and made themselves masters of several small towns; upon which King

Ferrand, the son of Alphonso (who was turned monk, as you have heard

before), with the Marquis of Mantua, brother to the Lord Montpensier’s

wife[470], and captain-general of the Venetians, drew out against them,

and found the Lord de Montpensier in a town called Atella, situated very

disadvantageously for the supply of provisions. The enemy immediately

encamped on a hill, and fortified themselves as strongly as they could,

not daring to venture a battle, for King Ferrand and the Marquis of

Mantua had been beaten by us in every engagement they had fought. The

Venetians had in pledge six towns in Apulia, of very great importance,

namely, Brindisi, Trani, Gallipoli, Crana, Otranto, Monopoli, and

Tarento, which last they had taken from us. And they lent some money to

King Ferrand, but they valued the service of their forces in that kingdom

so high, that it was computed and charged upon the said towns at two

hundred and fifty thousand ducats, besides what they demanded for the

fortifications and other expenses in keeping them; so that I am persuaded

they have no intention to restore them[471]; for it is not their custom

to part with anything that is for their convenience, as those towns are,

lying all upon the Gulf of Venice, and making them absolute lords of it,

from Venice to Otranto, which is nine hundred miles complete. The Pope,

indeed, has Ancona and some few other towns between them; but all must

pay duties to the Venetians, or there is no passing through the Gulf;

so that it was a great advantage to them to have those towns in their

hands, and perhaps more than many people imagine, for they receive from

them great quantities of corn and oil, which are two commodities very

beneficial and necessary for them.

At the town of Atella[472] above-mentioned, our troops began to mutiny,

not only for provisions (which were beginning to fail), but for their

pay, for there was already an arrear due to them for above eighteen

months, and they had suffered very great hardships. The Swiss, too, were

largely in arrear, but not altogether so much, for all the money the Lord

de Montpensier could raise in that kingdom went to the payment of them,

and yet they had above a year due to them. They had, however, plundered

several little villages, and got a considerable booty. If the forty

thousand ducats which had been so often promised had been sent in time,

or had they known they would receive them at Florence, this mutiny had

never happened; but now all that was done proceeded merely from despair.

Several of the commanders have told me since, that if our men would have

agreed to have ventured a battle, in all likelihood the victory would

been theirs, or if they had lost it, it could not have been with the

destruction of half so many as they lost by their base and dishonourable

surrender. The Lords de Montpensier and Virgil Ursini would willingly

have fought, and they died in prison, and not one of the articles of

their treaty was observed to them. These two gentlemen accused the Lord

de Percy (a young gentleman of Auvergne), of having been the occasion

of their not fighting; and the truth is, the Lord de Percy was an

ill-conditioned and mutinous knight.

There were two sorts of Germans in that army[473]; one was the Swiss, of

whom we had about one thousand five hundred, who had been with us from

the beginning of our expedition, and they served us faithfully and as

well as men could do to the very last. There was another commonly called

Lansquenets, which is as much as to say, Companions of the Country, and

these have a natural antipathy to the Swiss; they are a collection from

all the countries upon the Rhine, Swabia, the Pays de Vaux in Sequania,

and Guelderland; and they consisted of about seven or eight hundred men

lately sent thither, with two months’ pay in advance, which was spent by

them before they arrived. Seeing themselves in such danger and distress,

they retained not that affection to us which the Swiss did, but began to

hold parleys, and by degrees revolted to the enemy; upon which and the

division among our commanders, the soldiers made a villanous and infamous

agreement, which King Ferrand swore to observe; for the Marquis of Mantua

took great care to secure the person of the Lord de Montpensier, his

brother-in-law.

By the said agreement they delivered themselves into the hands of their

enemies, gave them all the artillery which belonged to our king, and

promised to restore all the places which our king possessed in that

kingdom, as well in Calabria, where the Lord d’Aubigny commanded, as in

Abruzzo, where the Lord Gracian des Guerres was chief; besides Gaeta

and Tarento. Upon which terms King Ferrand undertook to send them into

Provence by sea, and their baggage with them, which was worth little or

nothing.[474] They were about five or six thousand men, and King Ferrand

caused them to be conducted to Naples. So ignominious an agreement had

not been made before in our times, nor did I ever read of any like it,

unless it was that which (as Titus Livius reports[475]) was made by the

two Roman consuls with the Samnites (who are now supposed to be the

inhabitants of Beneventum) at a certain place upon the mountains, which

was then called the Caudine Forks; but the Romans refused to ratify and

confirm it, and sent the two consuls back prisoners to the enemy.

If our army had fought and been defeated, we had not lost so great a

number of men as we did, for two-thirds of them died of famine and

plague on ship-board, and in the Isle of Procida, whither they were sent

afterwards by King Ferrand; among the rest, the Lord de Montpensier died

there, some say of poison, others of a fever, (which I rather believe).

And I think of their whole number there came not above one thousand five

hundred back; for of the Swiss, who were one thousand three hundred,

there returned not above three hundred and fifty, and those in a weak and

miserable condition. These Swiss were highly to be commended for their

loyalty; for they would never bear arms under King Ferrand, but chose

rather to die, as many of them did in the island of Procida, some of a

calenture, some of other diseases, and some of very hunger; for it is not

to be imagined in what want of food they were kept on ship-board, and how

long. I saw some of those who returned, and particularly the Swiss, who

brought back all their colours; but by their looks one might see what

they had suffered; for all of them were so very sick, that when they came

ashore to take a little air, they could not walk without being supported.

The Lord Virgil Ursini by his articles was to have had liberty to return

into his own country with his son[476], and his whole regiment; but they

detained him, and his lawful son with him (of which sort he had but one);

yet he had a bastard who was a brave man, called Signor Carlo[477]; but

he was killed by certain Italians who were in his company upon the road.

Had this misfortune fallen upon any but those who had a hand in the

treaty, it had been a very deplorable accident.[478]

Not long after King Ferrand had gained this honour, and newly married

the daughter of his grandfather King Ferrand, whom he had by the present

King of Castile’s sister (so that his queen was sister to his own father

King Alphonso), and who was a young lady not above thirteen or fourteen

years old, he fell into a hectic fever, and died in a few days.[479] He

left the possession of his kingdom to King Frederic (now reigning) who

was his uncle. I cannot think of this marriage without horror, though

there were several of the same nature in that family within the memory of

man, and that within the space of thirty years. He died not long after

that infamous treaty of Atella in the year 1496. King Ferrand, when he

was living, and Frederic since his accession to the throne, excused

themselves, because the Lord de Montpensier had not surrendered the towns

that were mentioned in the articles of agreement; but it was not in his

power, for Gaeta and other places were not in his hands; and indeed

though he was our king’s lieutenant in that kingdom, yet the governors

of the respective towns were not bound to surrender them at his command,

though if they had, our king had been no great loser by the bargain; for

they afterwards cost a great deal to repair and victual: and so they were

lost at last. I was present myself when provisions were sent, once to the

castles of Naples, and thrice to Gaeta; and I think I should not mistake

if I said those four supplies cost the king above three hundred thousand

francs; and yet all came to nothing.

CH. XXII.—How several Plots were formed (in favour of our King) by some

of the Italian Princes, not only for the Recovery of Naples, but for

the Destruction of the Duke of Milan; how they miscarried for want of

Supplies; and how another Design against Genoa came to the same ill

End.—1496.

The king, after his return from his expedition to Naples, as we have

already mentioned, continued a long time at Lyons, entertaining himself

with jousts and tournaments; and though still desirous to regain the

places he had lost in the kingdom of Naples, whatever it cost him,

he would take no pains to manage his own affairs. He had very good

intelligence in Italy, and great designs were set on foot in his favour;

which could easily have been managed by the kingdom of France, which

is very populous, and plentiful in corn, especially in Languedoc and

Provence, and other countries, out of which it is no difficult task to

raise money. But if any other prince besides the King of France should

embrace the cause of the Italians, and undertake their assistance, it

would impoverish and exhaust him to no purpose; for they will do nothing

without money; nor, indeed, are they able to do anything, unless it be

the Duke of Milan, or some of the great States. But a private governor

or general, how well affected soever he may be to the House of France,

and its pretensions to the kingdom of Naples, or the duchy of Milan, let

him be as devoted as he will to its interest (and from Italians you must

expect nothing more than partisanship), yet he cannot serve that house

long after the pay begins to fail; for the poor general would be deserted

by his own soldiers, and would himself be utterly undone; because for the

most part they have nothing wherewith to raise men, but their reputation

and credit; and the soldiers are paid by the general, and the general by

him who employs him in his service.

But as to the designs which I have mentioned as being so considerable,

they began before the surrender of Gaeta, upon the Duke of Milan’s not

keeping his promise, and continued for two years after our king’s return.

As for the Duke of Milan, he did not break his promise so much out of

malice and deceit, as through fear; for he was fearful that the king

could not have so great an addition to his power, without some diminution

of his own; besides, he did not think our king a prince of any firmness

or resolution. At length it was concluded that the Duke of Orleans should

march to Asti with a considerable body of forces; and I saw him and his

troops ready to set out. We were secure of the Duke of Ferrara with

five hundred men-at-arms and two thousand foot (though he was the Duke

of Milan’s father-in-law); for he joined with us to preserve himself

against the danger he was in between the Duke and the Venetians, who

not long previously (as I have said before[480]) had taken from him the

Polesan, and endeavoured all they could to ruin him: upon which account

he preferred his own and his children’s safety before the friendship of

his son-in-law; and perhaps he was of opinion that his son-in-law would,

by his mediation, come to some agreement with the king, when he found

himself in danger. We had also engaged the Marquis of Mantua on our

side, who had been, and was at that time general for the Venetians; but

they were so jealous of him, and he so dissatisfied with them, that he

remained with three hundred men-at-arms with his father-in-law the Duke

of Ferrara, for his wife was sister to the Duchess of Milan, and the

Duke of Ferrara’s daughter. Signor John Bentivoglio (who was governor,

and as it were Prince of Bologna,) was to have provided a hundred and

fifty men-at-arms, besides the horse and foot which his two sons were

to have brought with them, and his country was well situated for an

attack on the Duke of Milan. The Florentines, who saw they were utterly

undone, and were afraid they should be dispossessed of Pisa and the

rest of their towns, unless they exerted themselves, and did something

extraordinary in this critical juncture of affairs, agreed to assist us

with eight hundred men-at-arms, and five thousand foot, and to maintain

them at their own expense; and they had six months’ pay ready in bank.

The Ursini and the Prefect of Rome[481] (who was brother to the Cardinal

of St. Peter ad Vincula, so often mentioned before), who were in the

king’s pay, would have brought a thousand men-at-arms, but you must

know the retinue and equipage of their men-at-arms is not so great as

ours; for they have no archers, but their pay is alike; for the pay of a

man-at-arms (if he is well paid) is one hundred ducats a year, but if he

be attended by archers it is double. These soldiers the king would have

paid, but the Florentines were to have paid their own forces. The Duke

of Ferrara, the Marquis of Mantua, and Signor Bentivoglio desired only

their expenses; for they expected their reward out of the towns which

they should take from the Duke of Milan, had he been suddenly invaded by

the Duke of Orleans’ forces. And of those who were his confederates, none

would have been able to avoid siding with the king against the Venetians;

and for less than eighty thousand crowns the king could have kept all

these Italians together a long time; and if the Duke of Milan had been

conquered, the kingdom of Naples would have fallen of course.

The miscarriage of this important design proceeded merely from the

Duke of Orleans’ inconstancy. He intended over-night to set out in

the morning; he had sent all his equipage, baggage, and whatever else

belonged to his person, before him; so that there was nothing to follow

but himself. His army, consisting of eight hundred French men-at-arms

and six thousand foot (among whom were four hundred Swiss), lay ready

at Asti, and their pay in advance in their pockets; yet on a sudden he

changed his mind, and made two several requests to the king, that the

expedition might be once more debated before the council; and it was

done twice. I was present on both occasions: the result was, _nemine

contradicente_ (though there were always ten or twelve in council),

that he should proceed on the expedition; because they had given their

above-mentioned friends in Italy repeated assurances of his coming; and

they had raised men, and been at great expense in expectation of him.

But the Duke of Orleans (either by the advice of some other person, or

through his own unwillingness to go, on account of the king’s illness,

and his being the next heir to the crown,) plainly declared he would

not undertake that enterprise upon any quarrel of his own; but as he

was the king’s lieutenant, if his majesty pleased to command it, he

would go with all his heart; and so the council broke up. The next day,

and several days after, the Florentine envoys, and the rest of the

ambassadors, pressed the king, that he would command the duke to go; but

the king’s answer was, that he would never send him to make war against

his inclinations. And thus was that enterprise quashed in a moment, to

the king’s great displeasure, who had been at vast charges, and had great

hopes of revenging himself on the Duke of Milan, considering his own

alliances at that time, and what he might have had by Signor John James

de Trivulce, who was lieutenant-general for the king; and that the Duke

of Orleans was born, and had great interest and alliance in the duchy of

Milan, where many persons would have supported him.

But though this design miscarried, another revived, nay two or three at

a time, in Genoa, which is a place ever prone to revolutions. One was

contrived by Signor Baptista di Campoforgoso[482], a great leader of

faction in Genoa; but he was banished, and his party could do nothing;

nor could the family of Doria, who were gentlemen, but the Campoforgosi

were not. The Dorias are of the same party with the Campoforgosi, but

cannot be Doges themselves, because they are gentlemen; for no gentleman

is capable of being Doge by their laws. But this Baptista had been Doge

not long before, but was supplanted by his uncle the Cardinal of Genoa,

who put the government into the hands of the Duke of Milan, under whom

the city was governed by the Adorni, who also are not gentlemen; yet they

have been often Doges, and are supported by the house of the Spinoli, who

are gentlemen. The nobility in Genoa make Doges, but cannot be made so

themselves. This Signor Baptista expected his whole party (both in the

city and country) would take arms in his favour, and that the king would

obtain the sovereignty, but the government would fall into the hands of

himself and his party; and they did not question but to drive out the

rest.

The other design was set on foot by several persons in Savona, who

addressed themselves to the Cardinal of St. Peter ad Vincula, assuring

him they would deliver up the town, provided their liberties and

privileges might be secured to them; for they were then under the

jurisdiction of Genoa, and paid heavy duties. If he could have made

himself master of this town, he would have reduced Genoa to great

straits, considering Provence was our king’s own country, and Savoy

at his command. Upon this news, the king sent to Signor John James di

Trivulce to assist the said Baptista di Campoforgoso with such supplies

as might carry him to the very walls of Genoa, to see whether his party

would rise. On the other side he was pressed hard by the Cardinal of St.

Peter ad Vincula, who also obtained a letter to Trivulce from the king,

commanding him to furnish the Cardinal with men enough to conduct him to

Savona; and he received the same message by word of mouth from the Lord

of Sernon in Provence, who was the Cardinal’s friend, and a bold talker.

The king also sent orders to Signor James di Trivulce to contrive matters

so as to support both parties, and yet do nothing against the Duke of

Milan, or contrary to the peace that had been made with him the year

before; but these orders were downright contradictions.

And after this manner the affairs of great princes are managed, when they

are not present themselves, or are too hasty in commanding letters and

messengers to be despatched, without mature and requisite deliberation.

In this case, if one considers what was required by Signor Baptista di

Campoforgoso and the Cardinal, we shall find that it was impossible to

supply them both at a time. For to approach the walls of Genoa without a

considerable body of forces, was ridiculous and impracticable, by reason

of the numbers and courage of the inhabitants; and to have supplied

the Cardinal had been to have divided his own army into three bodies,

for part must of necessity have remained with Signor John James; and,

besides, the alarm was taken, and the Duke of Milan, the Venetians, Don

Frederic, and the Pope, had all of them sent forces to Genoa and Savona,

suspecting their intended revolt.

Besides these two, Signor John James Trivulce had a third design of his

own, and that was, to march directly with all his forces against the

Duke of Milan, and lay those other enterprises aside; and certainly if

he had been permitted to pursue his own scheme, he would have performed

some great action; for, under pretence that he could not otherwise

protect such as were engaged in the designs upon Genoa and Savona, he

posted himself upon the high road from Alessandria to Genoa (and indeed

the Duke of Milan could send forces no other way to molest us), and

possessed himself of two or three small towns, without any resistance,

pretending that this was no violation of the peace with the duke, for he

was forced to it of necessity; and that the king could not be said to

have made war upon the duke by endeavouring to recover Genoa and Savona,

because they held of the king, and had forfeited their allegiance.

However, to satisfy the Cardinal, Signor John James di Trivulce sent

part of his army to Savona; but he found the garrison reinforced and

his designs defeated, and so he marched back. He sent other troops to

Signor Baptista, to attempt something upon Genoa, and great matters were

expected from thence; but before they had marched four leagues, both the

French and Swiss who were in his company grew suspicious of him (though I

think it was wrongfully), and it was well things happened so; for their

number being very inconsiderable, they would have exposed themselves

to great danger if their party in the town had not risen. Thus all

these enterprises and designs miscarried, and the Duke of Milan became

strong; but he had run great danger if Signor John James had not been

countermanded. Our army marched back, our foot were disbanded, the small

towns restored, and the war was concluded, but with little advantage

to the king, considering what expense he had been at in military

preparations.

CH. XXIII.—Of certain Differences that arose between Charles King of

France, and Ferrand King of Castile; and the Ambassadors who were sent by

both of them to accommodate the Affair.—1497.

From the beginning of 1496, when the king had already been four months

on this side of the mountains, till the year 1498, our forces lay

still, and did nothing in Italy: I was present all that while with his

majesty, and privy to most of his affairs. He went from Lyons to Moulins,

and from Moulins to Tours, spending his time in nothing but jousts and

tournaments wherever he came, without ever thinking of other affairs.

Those who were in greatest reputation with him, were in great dissension

among themselves, and it could hardly be greater. Some (as the Cardinal

and seneschal) were for carrying on the war in Italy, because it was

for their profit and advantage; the admiral[483] on the other side (who

before that expedition had been the king’s greatest favourite), opposed

it in hopes to be restored to his former authority and to supplant his

competitors; and in this posture things stood about a year and a half.

In the meantime our king sent ambassadors to the King and Queen of

Castile, for his majesty desired to be at peace with them, because they

were very powerful both at sea and land; and though at land they had

done no extraordinary exploits, yet by sea they had given Kings Ferrand

and Frederic very considerable assistance; for the island of Sicily is

distant from Rheggio in Calabria only a league and a half. Some are of

opinion it was formerly joined to the continent[484], and in process of

time separated from it by the sea. The opening is now called the Straits

of Messina. From this island of Sicily, which belonged to the King and

Queen of Castile, large supplies were sent to Naples, as well in caravels

from Spain, as in men from the island, out of which several men-at-arms

passed the sea into Calabria, with a good number of Spanish Genetaires,

and made war against those who appeared for our king. Their fleet was

continually joined with the confederates, and when they were united, our

king was too weak to meet them at sea; otherwise the King of Castile had

not done him much mischief. It is true a good body of his horse made

an inroad into Languedoc, plundered some few towns, and quartered up

and down that country for three or four days; but that was all, and no

considerable damage done. Monsieur de St. André[485] (of Bourbonnois)

being then upon the frontier with some troops belonging to the Duke of

Bourbon, who was governor of Languedoc, attempted to take Sausses[486], a

small town in Roussillon, from whence the enemy made all his incursions;

for the king had restored the said Roussillon to them about two years

before, in which province there is the territory of Perpignan, and this

Sausses is in the middle of it. The design was great, because the town

was strongly garrisoned with a detachment of the King of Castile’s own

guards, and within a league lay their whole army, which was more numerous

than ours, and ready to engage us. However, Monsieur de St. André managed

his affairs so prudently, and with so much secrecy, that in ten hours’

time he took the town (which I have seen) by assault[487] and in it there

were thirty or forty Spanish gentlemen of good quality slain, and among

them the son of the Archbishop of St. James’s[488], besides three or four

hundred more. They did not suppose we should have been masters of it so

soon, because they knew not the goodness of our cannon, which certainly

are the finest and best in Europe.

No other but this action happened between these two kings, and this was

much to the dishonour of the King of Castile, who had such a numerous

army in the field. But when God Almighty is pleased to chastise a nation

for its sins, He begins with such small and supportable afflictions;

for the King and Queen of Castile were visited afterwards with greater

afflictions, and so were we too. The King and Queen of Castile acted very

imprudently, and were ill-advised to forswear themselves to our master,

especially after he had been so friendly as to restore Roussillon, which

had cost his father so much to fortify and defend, and which had been

mortgaged to him for 300,000 crowns; all which was remitted to hinder

him from disturbing our king in his intended conquest of Naples. Besides

which, they renewed the ancient alliances with not only king and king,

kingdom and kingdom, but the individual subjects on both sides were

mutually bound; and they promised not to interrupt us in our conquest,

nor to marry any of their daughters with the houses of either Naples,

England, or Flanders; which offer came first from themselves, and was

made by one Friar John de Mauleon, on the part of the Queen of Castile.

Yet as soon as they saw the war begun, and the king at Rome, they sent

their ambassadors to all the neighbouring states to make an alliance

against our king; and particularly to Venice, where I was resident at

that time; and there the league (which I have spoken of so much) was

made between the Pope, the King of the Romans, the Signory of Venice,

the Spaniards, and the Duke of Milan; and immediately they began to act

offensively against our king, and to declare that their former obligation

had become void, and they were no longer bound to observe it, especially

that article about the marriage of their daughters (of whom they had

four, and but one son), though they first made that offer of themselves,

as you have already heard.

But to proceed in my history. After the wars in Italy were over, and the

king had nothing left in the kingdom of Naples but Gaeta, which he lost

afterwards,—after the rival pretensions to Roussillon were adjusted, and

each prince was in possession of what was his own, they sent a gentleman

to King Charles, and with him certain monks of Montferrat, it being the

custom of Spain to manage all their negotiations by such people, either

out of hypocrisy and pretence of religion, or to save expense; for, as

I said before, the treaty about Roussillon was managed by Friar John de

Mauleon. These ambassadors, at their first audience, besought the king

that he would forget the injury that had been done him by the King and

Queen of Castile (which king and queen are always mentioned together,

because Castile came by her, and she had in that country the principal

authority, and it was a marriage of more than ordinary honour). Then

they began to propose a truce, in which their whole league was to be

comprehended, and our king was to keep Gaeta in his possession, and

what other places were then in his hands in the kingdom of Naples; that

during the truce his majesty might victual them as he pleased; and that

a time and place should be appointed, at which ambassadors from all the

parties to the league (or as many as desired it) should meet to conclude

a final peace; after which the King and Queen of Spain intended to pursue

the conquest of the Moors, and, having finished that, to pass over from

Granada into Africa against the King of Fez, whose kingdom reaches to

the coast on the other side of that sea. However, some say they never

designed to do this, but were resolved to be satisfied with the conquest

of the kingdom of Granada, which indeed was a glorious action, and the

fairest acquisition which had been gained, not only in our times, but by

all their predecessors; and I wish for their own sakes they had rested

there, and kept their promise to our king.

With these ambassadors of theirs our king sent back the Lord of

Clerieux[489], in Dauphiny, and endeavoured to conclude either a separate

peace or a truce with them, without comprehending any of the rest of

the confederates; but if the king had accepted their overture, he had

preserved Gaeta, which might have been sufficient for the recovery of the

whole kingdom, considering what friends his majesty had in it. When the

Lord of Clerieux returned, he brought new propositions, for Gaeta was

lost before he got to Castile. These propositions were, that the ancient

alliance between the two crowns should be renewed, and that by common

consent and expense they should endeavour the conquest of Italy, and that

both the kings should be personally present in that expedition.[490] But

first they insisted that a general truce might be concluded, wherein the

whole league should be comprehended, and a day and place appointed in

Piedmont, to which each of them might send their ambassadors; for they

were desirous to acquit themselves honourably towards their confederates.

But all this overture, in my opinion, (and I have understood as much

since), was but an artifice to gain time, and suffer King Ferrand and his

successor King Frederic to breathe a little. However, they would have

been contented to have had that kingdom to themselves, and their title

was better than that of those who possessed it; but our king’s title

(which was the house of Anjou’s) was better than either; yet, considering

the nature of the country, and the people who inhabit it, I think he has

best right to it that can keep possession of it, so strangely are they

inclined to revolutions.

After this, the king sent Clerieux back again into Spain, and with him

one Michel de Grammont, with certain new proposals. This Lord de Clerieux

had some little affection for the house of Arragon, and hoped to have the

marquisate of Cotron in Calabria, which the King of Spain obtained among

the last conquests which he made in that province. Clerieux pretended it

was his, for he is an honest man, but something too credulous, especially

of such great persons. The second time he returned, he brought back with

him another ambassador from them, and the Lord de Clerieux reported that

the King and Queen of Castile would be contented to take Calabria (which

is the part of Italy that lies next Sicily) for their whole interest in

that kingdom, and that our king should have the rest; he offered likewise

that the King of Castile should be present in person in this intended

expedition, and contribute as much towards paying the army as our king;

and, indeed, he was at that time master of four or five fortified towns

in Calabria, and among the rest was Cotron, which is not only a strong,

but a beautiful city. I was present when the ambassador made his report,

and most were of opinion he had been imposed upon, and that it would be

necessary to send another ambassador of greater sagacity, to search more

narrowly into the affair. Upon which the Lord du Bouchage was joined

with him in the embassy. He was a person of great wisdom and penetration

in state affairs, and had enjoyed places of great trust and honour in

the late king’s reign, and was still highly valued and esteemed by his

son. The Spanish ambassador, who came along with the Lord de Clerieux,

would never confirm what he had said; only he told us, that he believed

Monsieur de Clerieux would not have made that report, if the King and

Queen of Castile had not said it; which gave us the more suspicion it was

a trick; and, besides, nobody could believe the King of Spain would go

thither in person, or that he would, or indeed could, bear an equal share

of the expense with our master.

As soon as the Lord du Bouchage, Monsieur de Clerieux, Michel de

Grammont, and the rest of our ambassadors, were arrived at the court

of the King and Queen of Castile, they ordered them to be lodged in

apartments where none could converse with them, and appointed persons to

have an eye over them, and they were admitted to three private audiences

of the king and queen. When the Lord du Bouchage had acquainted them

with what the Lord de Clerieux had reported to his master, and Michel de

Grammont had confirmed it, they answered, that they might have said some

such thing by way of discourse, but not otherwise, yet they would readily

engage themselves in any peace that should be for our master’s honour

and advantage. The Lord de Clerieux was very uneasy at their answer (and

with reason), and justified to their faces, in the presence of the Lord

du Bouchage, that they had made him this offer. However, the Lord du

Bouchage and the other ambassadors concluded a truce for two months[491],

without comprehending the league in it; but including the princes

who had married their daughters, and the fathers of their sons-in-law

(namely, the King of the Romans, and the King of England), for the Prince

of Wales[492] was but very young at that time. The King and Queen of

Castile had four daughters; the eldest was a widow, and married to the

son of the King of Portugal[493], who died lately, having broken his neck

in her sight as he was passing a career upon a jennet before her, three

months after their marriage; and they had one daughter[494] unmarried.

As soon as the Lord du Bouchage was arrived, and had informed the king of

his reception at the Spanish court, his majesty was sensible he had acted

wisely in sending him, for now he was assured of what he but suspected

before, and that was, the credulity of the Lord de Clerieux. The Lord du

Bouchage told him, moreover, that all he could obtain was that truce,

which, however, his majesty had liberty either to accept or reject.

The king confirmed it, and therein he did wisely, for it broke up that

confederacy which had given so much disturbance to his affairs, and which

hitherto he had been unable to dissolve, though he had tried all possible

means to do it. The Lord du Bouchage also acquainted his majesty, that

they would send ambassadors to him with power to conclude a peace; and

of this the King and Queen of Castile had assured him when he had his

audience of leave. He told our king also, that at his coming away he left

their only son, the Prince of Castile, very dangerously ill.

CH. XXIV.—A Digression concerning the Fortunes and Misfortunes which

happened to the House of Castile in the Author’s Time.—1497.

The Lord du Bouchage, ten or twelve days after his return into France,

received letters from a herald, whom he had left behind to wait on the

ambassadors that were to come from thence. The letters were to this

purpose, that he must not wonder at their deferring the embassy, because

of the death of the Prince of Castile[495] (as they called him), to the

unspeakable grief of the king and queen, but especially of the queen,

who was more like to die than to live; and certainly I never heard of

so solemn and so universal a mourning for any prince in Europe. I have

since been informed by ambassadors, that all the tradesmen put themselves

into black clothes, and shut up their shops for forty days together;

the nobility and gentry covered their mules with black cloth down to

their very knees, so that there was nothing of them to be seen but their

eyes; and set up black banners upon all the gates of the cities. When

the Lady Margaret (daughter to the King of the Romans[496], sister to

the Archduke of Austria[497], and wife to the said Prince of Castile)

was informed of the news of his death, she miscarried of a daughter

(being six months gone with child), which was born dead. What a terrible

blow must this have been to a family which had known nothing before but

felicity and renown, and had a larger territory (I mean by succession)

than any other prince in Christendom! And, besides the late acquisition

of Granada, they had forced the greatest monarch in Europe out of Italy,

and defeated his enterprise, which was looked upon to be such a mighty

action even by the Pope[498] himself, that he would have taken away the

title of “Most Christian” from the King of France, and conferred it on

the King of Castile, to whom several briefs were addressed with that

title superscribed; but, because some of the Cardinals opposed it, he

gave him another title, which was, “The Most Catholic,” by which title

he is called now, and I suppose he will be styled so for ever at Rome.

What a sad and surprising turn of fortune must this accident have been!

at a time when they had reduced their kingdom to obedience, regulated the

laws, settled the administration of justice, and were so well and happy

in their own persons, as if God and man had conspired to advance their

power and honour above all the rest of the princes in Europe.

Nor was this their only affliction, for their eldest daughter (the

dearest thing to them in the world after the death of her brother)

was forced to leave them, having some few days before been married to

Emanuel[499], the young King of Portugal. He was then indeed but Prince

of Portugal; but the crown of Portugal fell to him by the death of the

last King of Portugal, who had most barbarously caused the head of his

father-in-law[500] to be cut off, and killed his wife’s brother[501]

with his own hand (who was elder brother to the king that now reigns in

Portugal), and kept this present king in perpetual fear, and killed his

own brother before his wife’s face, as they were sitting at dinner, to

make way for one of his bastards[502] to be king. After which cruelties

he lived in continual fear and suspicion, and not long after his only son

broke his neck by falling off his mule, as you have heard; and he was the

first husband to the lady of whom I am now speaking, and who is Queen of

Portugal at present, into which kingdom she has been twice married; and

by report she is one of the wisest and most honourable persons in the

world.

But, to continue our relation of the miserable accidents which in a short

space befel the King and Queen of Castile, who had lived in so much glory

and felicity to the fiftieth year of their age or more, you must know

they had married their eldest daughter to the King of Portugal, first

that all Spain might be in peace; for they were entirely possessed of

all its provinces, except the kingdom of Navarre, which they governed as

they pleased, and in which they had also four of the strongest towns.

Secondly, to adjust and compose the difference about her dower and

marriage-portion: and, thirdly, for the benefit and advantage of some of

the grandees of Portugal, who were in the King of Castile’s interest;

for by this match those lords who were banished that country upon the

death of the two princes above-mentioned, and had had their estates

confiscated (which continues to this day, though the crime of which they

were accused was only endeavouring to set this king up who now reigns),

had estates given them in Castile; and their lands in Portugal, which

were forfeited by the attainder, were assigned to the queen’s use. And

yet, notwithstanding all these considerations, the King and Queen of

Castile were extremely troubled at this match; for you must understand

there is no nation in Europe that the Spaniards abhor and deride so much

as they do the Portuguese. So that it was no small mortification to them

that they had married their daughter to a person that was not pleasing

to the Castilians and the rest of their subjects, and had it been to be

done again, it would never have been done; which must needs have been a

great affliction to them, and the greater, because she had to leave them.

But, having mastered their sorrow as well as they could, they conducted

them through all the chief cities in their kingdoms, caused the King

of Portugal to be received as their prince, his queen as princess, and

declared them their successors after their decease. And now a little

comfort came to them; for their daughter, Princess of Castile and Queen

of Portugal, was pregnant of a child. But then followed the consummation

of their sorrows, this young lady, whom they loved and valued so

highly, died in childbed of a son about a month since, and it is now

October 1498. Though the queen died, yet her son lived, and is called

Emanuel[503] after his father; yet I am informed their affliction is so

great, they would have given God thanks to have taken them with their

daughter.

All these great misfortunes happened to them in three months’ space; nor

were we without our share of afflictions; for, before the death of the

above-mentioned princess, we in this kingdom were chastised and afflicted

by the death of King Charles VIII., of whom I have spoken so much, and

who died as you shall hear hereafter; and it seemed as if God had been

offended with both these illustrious families, and would not suffer the

one to triumph over the other. No such revolution happens in a kingdom,

but it is generally attended with very sad consequences, and though

possibly some may be gainers, yet there will be a hundred losers to one

who profits, besides the changing of a man’s whole life and conversation;

for that which pleases one king will hardly be agreeable to another.

And (as I have said in another place) he that reflects upon the sudden

and severe chastisements which God has inflicted on the great princes

of Europe within these thirty years, shall find them more and greater

than in two hundred years before, including France, Castile, Portugal,

England, the Kingdom of Naples, Flanders, and Bretagne; and if any should

attempt to give a particular account of all the misfortunes which I have

seen, (and perhaps most of the persons, both men and women, on whom

they fell), it would swell into a vast volume, and astonish the whole

world, though it contained no more than the occurrences of ten years

past. By these afflictions the power of God ought to be acknowledged and

remembered; for the troubles which he lays upon princes are heavier, more

grievous, and more lasting than those he lays upon inferior persons. So

that, in short (upon a full and just consideration of all circumstances),

I think the lives of princes are as much subject to afflictions and

anxiety of mind as other men’s, at least if they regard their own affairs

themselves, and endeavour to prevent such miseries from falling upon them

as they see have ruined their neighbours. It is true they punish their

subjects at their pleasure, and God does the same by them; for, besides

Him, there is none above them. But that kingdom is most happy whose king

is wise, and fears God and his commandments.

Thus have you seen, in few words, the misfortunes which within the space

of three months befel these two great and potent kingdoms, which not

long before were so incensed one against the other, so busy to subvert

one another, and so intent upon their own interest and advancement, that

nothing which they enjoyed was sufficient to satisfy their boundless

ambition. I confess (as I said before) no change happens in any

government but some people are the better for it; yet when a prince dies

suddenly his death is at first terrible to all.

CH. XXV.—Of the magnificent Building which King Charles began not long

before his Death; his good Inclination to reform the Church, the Laws,

the Treasury, and himself; and how he died suddenly in this Resolution in

his Castle at Amboise.—1498.

I have now done with the affairs of Italy and Spain, and shall return to

speak of our own misfortunes and losses in France (at which some people

might possibly rejoice, especially if they gained anything by them), and

give you an account of the death of Charles VIII., our king, who died

suddenly at his castle of Amboise, where he had begun the most august

and magnificent building that any prince had undertaken for one hundred

years before, both in the town and the castle; and this appears by the

towers, to the top of which one may ride on horseback. As to his building

in the town, the design was admirable, the model lofty, and the erection

would have required a great deal of time. He had brought his artificers

(as his carvers, painters, and such like) from Italy, so that the whole

fabric seemed the enterprise of a young prince who had no thought of

dying so soon; for he collected whatever was commended to him either in

France, Italy, or Flanders. Besides this great work, his mind was bent

upon another expedition into Italy, for he was sensible he had committed

many great errors in his first; he spoke often of them, and resolved,

if ever he recovered what he had lost in that country, he would keep it

better than he had done; and, having partisans and intelligence in all

places, he thought it not impossible but he might return and recover

the kingdom of Naples; to which purpose he resolved to send thither a

body of fifteen hundred Italian men-at-arms under the command of the

Marquis of Mantua, the Ursini, the Vitelli, and the Prefect of Rome,

who was brother to the Cardinal of St. Peter ad Vincula; and the Lord

d’Aubigny, who had done such good service in Calabria, was to march into

the territories of the Florentines, who were to bear half the charges

for six months. His first attempt was to have been upon Pisa, or the

adjacent small towns; and then, joining all his forces, to march in one

body into the kingdom of Naples, from whence messengers were sent to him

continually. Pope Alexander VI., who now reigns, being offended with the

Venetians, endeavoured to come into the alliance, and carried on private

intrigues for the purpose by means of an agent that lay incognito, whom I

privately conveyed into the king’s chamber not long before his death. The

Venetians were ready to join with us against the Duke of Milan, and our

negociations with Spain were as you have heard; the King of the Romans

desired nothing so earnestly as the friendship of our king, and that they

two might manage their own affairs in Italy by themselves. This King

of the Romans was called Maximilian, and he was a mortal enemy to the

Venetians, because they had taken and kept several places belonging to

the house of Austria, of which he was next heir, and heir to the empire

besides.

The king had also resolved within himself to live a more strict and

religious life than he had formerly done, to regulate the laws, to

reform the Church, and so to rectify his finances that he would not

raise above one million two hundred thousand francs upon his subjects by

way of annual tax, which was the sum given him by the three Estates at

their convention at Tours, upon his accession to the throne. He intended

the said sum should be employed in the defence of the kingdom, and for

himself he would live upon his crown lands, as his predecessors had done

before him; which he might easily have done if it had been well managed,

for his private revenue (comprehending his duties and customs) came to

above a million a year. Had he done as he resolved, it would have been a

great ease to the people, who pay now above two millions and a half. He

was very earnest likewise to have reformed the abuses in the order of St.

Benedict and others. He got good preachers about him, and was a constant

hearer of them. He would fain have ordered it so that a bishop should

have enjoyed but one bishopric, a cardinal two, and that all should have

been obliged to be resident upon their benefices; but he would have

found it a difficult task to have persuaded the clergy to it. He gave

alms liberally to the poor not many days before his death, as I was

since informed by his confessor the Bishop of Angers[504], who is a very

eminent prelate. He had erected also a place for public audience[505],

where he heard and dispatched causes, especially for the benefit of the

poor; in which place I saw him for two hours together, not above a week

before he died; after which time I never saw him again. Matters of great

moment were not dispatched at these audiences, but he had set up that

court to keep people in awe, and especially his officers, some of whom he

suspended for bribery and corruption.

The king being in such great glory in relation to this world, and in

such a good mind as to God, on the 7th of April, 1498, being the eve of

Palm Sunday, took his queen (Anne of Bretagne) by the hand, and led her

out of her chamber to a place where she had never been before, to see

them play at tennis in the castle-ditch. They entered together into a

gallery called the Haquelebac Gallery, upon the account of its having

been formerly guarded by one Haquelebac. It was the nastiest place about

the castle, broken down at the entrance, and everybody committed a

nuisance in it that would. The king was not a tall man, yet he knocked

his head as he went in. He spent some time in looking upon the players,

and talked freely with everybody. I was not there myself (for I had gone

to my country-house about a week before) but his confessor the Bishop

of Angers, and the gentlemen of his bed-chamber, who were then about

him, told me what I write. The last expression he used whilst he was

in health was, that he hoped never to commit a mortal sin again, nor a

venial sin if he could help it; and with those words in his mouth he fell

down backwards, and lost his speech. It was about two in in the afternoon

when he fell, and he lay motionless till eleven o’clock at night. Thrice

he recovered his speech, but he quickly lost it again, as his confessor

told me, who had confessed him twice that week, once of course, and a

second time upon occasion of his touching for the king’s evil. Every one

went into the gallery that pleased, where the king was laid upon a coarse

bed; and he never left it till he died, which was nine hours after. The

confessor told me that every time he recovered his speech he called out

upon God, the glorious Virgin Mary, St. Claude, and St. Blaise, to assist

him. And thus died that great and powerful monarch in a sordid and filthy

place, though he had so many magnificent palaces of his own, and was

building another more stately than any of them, yet he died in this poor

chamber. How plain, then, and natural is it, from these two examples, for

us to acknowledge the power and omnipotence of God, and that our life is

but a span and a trifle, though we are so greedy and ambitious after the

riches of this world; and that princes no more than peasants are able to

resist the Almighty.

CH. XXVI.—How holy Friar Jerome was burned at Florence by the Malice and

Solicitation of the Pope, and several Venetians and Florentines who were

his Enemies.—1498.

In my relation of the affairs of Italy[506], I have mentioned a Jacobite

friar who lived at Florence for the space of fifteen years, in great

reputation for the sanctity of his life, and whom I saw and conversed

with in the year 1495. His name was Jerome, and he had foretold several

things which afterwards came to pass. He had always affirmed that the

king would make a voyage into Italy, declaring it publicly in his

sermons, and asserting he had both that and other things by revelation

from God, by whom he pronounced our king to have been chosen to reform

the Church by the sword, and chastise the insolence of tyrants. But

his pretending to revelation created him many enemies, made him incur

the displeasure of the Pope, and gained him ill-will from several in

Florence. His life and discourses (as far as could be discovered)

were the severest and most holy in the world, for he was declaiming

perpetually against sin, and making many proselytes in that city.

In the same year 1498, and within four or five days after the death of

King Charles VIII., died Friar Jerome also[507]; which I mention the

rather, because he had always publicly asserted that the king should

return again into Italy, to accomplish the commission which God had given

him for the reforming of the Church by the sword, and the expulsion of

tyrants out of Italy; and that in case the king refused or neglected it,

God would punish him severely; all which former sermons and those which

he preached at this time, he caused to be printed, and they are to be

purchased at this day. His threats to the king of God’s severe anger

if he returned not into Italy, he wrote several times to his majesty a

little before his death; and he told me as much at my return from Italy,

assuring me that sentence was pronounced in heaven against the king,

provided he refused to observe what God had commanded, and did not keep

his soldiers from plundering.

About the time of the king’s death there were great divisions among the

Florentines. Some expected the king’s return, and very earnestly desired

it, upon confidence in Friar Jerome’s assurance; and in that confidence

they exhausted and ruined themselves in their expenses to promote the

recovery of Pisa and the rest of the towns which they had delivered to

the king; but Pisa remained in possession of the Venetians. Some of the

citizens were for siding with the league and deserting our king; and

these alleged that all was but folly and delusion, and that Friar Jerome

was a heretic and a hypocrite, and that he ought to be put into a sack

and thrown into the river; but he had friends in the town who protected

him against that fate. The Pope and the Duke of Milan wrote often against

him, assuring the Florentines that Pisa and the rest of their towns

should be restored, if they would abandon our king and punish Friar

Jerome. It accidentally happened, that at the time of the king’s death

the Signory consisted chiefly of Friar Jerome’s enemies (for the Signory

in that city is changed every two months), who suborned a Cordelier[508]

to quarrel with him, and to proclaim him a heretic and an abuser of the

people, in pretending to revelation, and to declare publicly that he

had no such gift; and, to prove what he said, he challenged him to the

ordeal of fire before the Signory. Friar Jerome had more wit than to

accept this challenge; but one of his brethren[509] offered to do it for

him, and another of the Cordeliers[510] volunteered to do as much on

the other side; so that a day[511] was appointed when they were to come

to their trial, and both of them presented themselves to enter the fire

accompanied by all the friars of their orders. The Jacobite brought the

Host in his hand, which the Signory and Cordeliers insisted he should

lay by; but the Jacobite, being obstinate to the contrary, and resolved

not to part with it, they returned all to their convents. Whereupon

the people, encouraged by Friar Jerome’s enemies, and authorised by

the Signory, went to his convent and fetched him and two more of his

brethren[512] out, and tortured them most cruelly, killing the chief man

in the city (called Francisco Vallori[513]), only for being his friend.

The Pope sent them power and commission to make out process against him,

and at last he and his two brethren were burnt.[514] The charge against

him consisted only of two articles; that he created disorder in the

city, and that he was an impostor; and that what he pretended to know by

revelation he was told by his friends in the council. For my own part I

will neither condemn nor excuse him, nor will I say they did ill or well

in putting him to death; but I am sure he foretold several things which

afterwards came to pass, and which all his friends in Florence could

never have suggested. And as to our master and the evils with which he

threatened him, they happened exactly as you have heard, first the death

of the Dauphin, and then his own death; predictions of which I have seen

in letters under his own hand to the king.

CH. XXVII.—Of the Obsequies and Funeral of King Charles VIII., and the

Coronation of his Successor Louis XII.; with the Genealogies of the Kings

of France to King Louis XII.—1498.

The distemper of which the king died was an apoplexy, or a catarrh,

which the physicians hoped would have fallen down into one of his arms,

and, though it might have taken away the use of that member, they were

in no fear of his death. His majesty had four physicians about him, but

his greatest confidence was in him that had the least knowledge and

experience in physic; and by his directions he was so entirely governed,

that the other three durst not give their judgments, though they saw the

indications of death, and would gladly have ordered him a purge three or

four days before. All people addressed themselves to the Duke of Orleans

immediately, as next heir to the crown; but the gentlemen of King

Charles’s bed-chamber buried him in great pomp and solemnity. As soon

as he was dead, service was begun for his soul, which continued day and

night; for when the Canons had done the Cordeliers began; and when they

had ended, the Bons-hommes or Minims took it up, for they were an order

of his own foundation. He lay eight days at Amboise, part of the time in

a chamber very richly hung, and part in the church. In short, he lay in

great state, and the whole solemnity was more costly than the funeral

of any of his predecessors had been. The gentlemen of his bed-chamber,

all that had waited on his person, and all the officers of his court,

never stirred from his corpse, but watched it constantly; and the service

continued till his body was interred, which was about a month after[515];

and, as I have been told by some of the officers of his exchequer, this

ceremony cost forty-five thousand francs. I came to Amboise two days

after his death, went to pay my devotions upon his bier, and stayed

there five or six hours. To speak impartially, I never saw so solemn a

mourning for any prince, nor one that continued so long; and no wonder,

for he had been more bountiful to his favourites, to the gentlemen of his

bed-chamber, and to ten or twelve gentlemen of his privy-chamber, had

treated them better, and given them greater estates than any king had

ever done before; and indeed he gave them too much. Besides, he was the

most affable and sweetest natured prince in the world. I verily believe

he never said a word to any man that could in reason displease him; so

that he could never have died in a better hour to make himself memorable

in history, and lamented by all who had served him. I do really think I

was the only person in the whole world to whom he was unkind; but, being

sensible that he was in his youth, and my treatment not at all his own

doing, I could not resent it.

Having lain one night at Amboise, I went and paid my respects to the new

king, with whom I had been formerly as intimate as any other person about

the court, and much of my troubles and losses were incurred for his sake;

but now all our former acquaintance and the service I had done him were

forgotten. However, he entered upon his government with great wisdom.

He altered not any pensions for that year, though they were still to

last for six months. He retrenched nothing of his salaries, but declared

that every officer in his kingdom should continue in the post in which

he found him; which was very honourable and discreet. As soon as all

things were made ready, he proceeded to his coronation[516], and I was

there among the rest. The peers of France (according to ancient custom)

were represented by these following: The Duke of Alençon represented the

Duke of Burgundy; the Duke of Bourbon the Duke of Normandy; and the Duke

of Lorraine the Duke of Guienne. The first of the Counts was Monsieur

de Ravestain, who represented the Count of Flanders. The second was

Engilbert of Cleves, who represented the Count of Champagne, and the

third was Monsieur de Foix, who represented the Count of Toulouse. The

said coronation was at Rheims on the 27th of May, 1498, and Louis XII.

was the fourth king who came collaterally to the crown. The two first

were Charles Martel, or Pepin his son, and Hugh Capet, both of them

mayors of the palace, or governors of their kings, who afterwards turned

usurpers, deposed their masters, and took the government upon themselves.

The third king was Philip of Valois, and the fourth King Louis, who now

reigns. But the two last came by a just and indisputable title to the

crown. The first race of the Kings of France is deduced from Meroveus:

there had been two kings before this Meroveus, that is to say, Pharamond,

(who was the first that was elected King of France; for, before his

time they were called Dukes or Kings of Gaul,) and after him one of his

sons called Clodion. Pharamond was chosen king in the year 420, and

reigned ten years; his son Clodion reigned eighteen, so that Pharamond

and his son reigned twenty-eight years. Meroveus, who succeeded, was not

Clodion’s son, but his kinsman; so that there seem to have been five

interruptions in the royal line. However, as I said before, the genealogy

of the Kings of France begins generally at Meroveus, who was made King

in the year 448; so that the right line is derived from thence, and runs

down to Louis XII., who was crowned one thousand and fifty years after

the pedigree of the said kings began. They who would derive it from King

Pharamond need only add twenty-eight more, and the number will amount

to one thousand and seventy-eight years since there were kings called

kings of France. From Meroveus to King Pepin there were three hundred and

thirty-three years, during which time the line of Meroveus lasted. From

King Pepin to Hugh Capet there were two hundred and thirty-seven years;

and during that time the line of King Pepin and his son Charlemagne

continued. Hugh Capet’s line lasted three hundred and thirty-nine years,

and expired at the accession of Philip de Valois; and the line of the

said Philip de Valois became extinguished in Charles VIII., who (as is

said before) died in the year 1498, and was the last of that family,

which had continued to possess the kingdom one hundred and sixty-nine

years, during which time seven kings had succeeded of that line, that is

to say, Philip de Valois, King John, King Charles V., King Charles VI.,

King Charles VII., King Louis XI., and King Charles VIII., who was the

last of the right line of Philip de Valois.