James Dennistoun

Italy ill prepared for the French Invasion—Duke Guidobaldo sent against the Orsini—Lucrezia Borgia’s second marriage—Descent of Charles VIII.—He reaches Naples and retreats—Battle of the Taro—The Duke engaged in the Pisan war—Is taken prisoner by the Orsini and ransomed.

THE preceding rapid sketch may show the materials of which the invading hosts were composed, and the nature of the approaching danger. Its imminence appalled even those powers who, like Sforza, thought more of their own ends than of the general weal; and Alfonso II., who had succeeded to the crown of Naples on the death of his father Ferdinand, in January, 1494, was indefatigable in uniting them on the defensive. With Pietro de' Medici, we have already seen that the latter was in close relations. Among the princes of Romagna, Gallic influence had obtained no footing. The Venetians, occupied in the defence of their eastern dependencies from the Turks, and trusting, perhaps, to see Charles redeem his promise of a crusade against the Crescent, were inclined to neutrality. Genoa was in the hands of a faction entirely under the influence of Ludovico il Moro,[*246] who, though bound by treaty to Charles, was already alienated at heart from the connection, and ready on the first opportunity to discard it. The Pontiffs position, like his usual policy, was somewhat complicated. We have formerly found his predecessors generally hostile to the dynasty of Aragon, as well as to that of Hohenstaufen, and tolerably consistent in support of the Angevine races, whose original title the Neapolitan crown was a papal grant. Further, claims of the popes as lords paramount of that kingdom, and the annual payments which in that capacity they demanded, were fertile grounds for rancour, which but a few years before had broken out into hostilities. We have also seen Ferdinand assisting Virginio Orsini in purchasing those estates from which Alexander was bent upon expelling him. But a deeper cause for mortification and personal enmity arose out of the resistance by that King and his son to the matrimonial alliance of a princess of their house with one of the Pope's spurious sons.[*247] For a time, therefore, his Holiness balanced between the parties, and appears even to have allowed his name to be used by Ludovico Sforza in proposing to Charles the conquest of Naples.[*248] But his object was merely to annoy and alarm Ferdinand; and when he found this idea seriously adopted by the young monarch of France, he hastily backed out, and employed his spiritual and temporal influence to dissuade him from the enterprise.[249] Alfonso warmly supported his Holiness in this new policy, and, in order to clench him in it, betrothed his natural daughter, Sancia, with a dowry of lands worth 10,000 ducats of rent, and jewels to the value of 200,000 ducats, to Giuffredo Borgia, the Pope's youngest child, whom he created Prince of Squillace. This son-in-law not being yet marriageable, the King had an excuse for taking him to be brought up near his bride, with the intention of securing a hostage for his unstable parent's good faith. As a further bait, the principality of Tricarico, with estates of 12,000 ducats a year, and one of the seven great offices under the crown of Naples, were given to the eldest Borgia, now Duke of Gandia; whilst on Cesare, already raised to the purple as Cardinal Valentino (or of Valencia), his best ecclesiastical benefices were showered by the hard-pressed Alfonso.

But the transaction of Virginio Orsini gave rise to a preliminary episode in the great drama, which, as bringing the Duke of Urbino upon the stage, requires some notice in this place. Besides the uneasiness with which Alexander viewed the further aggrandisement of that already too formidable subject, it is more than probable that, in claiming the CibÒ estates, as lapsed to the Camera Apostolica, his ultimate intention was, to bestow them upon one of his own children; for his selfish policy seldom embraced any aim more noble than nepotism or revenge. Being doubtful of his own ability to drive the Orsini from their new purchase, he, in April, 1493, leagued himself with Ludovico Sforza and the Venetian republic. Through the former, he carried into effect a scheme which at once tended to facilitate that object, and promoted his favourite aim of providing his offspring with eligible marriages. His daughter Lucrezia,—she whose name has, perhaps, done more to render her infamous than her guilt, but whose beauty, accomplishments, and eventual penitence, had been forgotten in the heinous crimes which history laid to her charge unquestioned, until Roscoe's ingenious defence,—Lucrezia Borgia was then betrothed wife of a Spanish, or, rather, a Neapolitan, gentleman, named Procida. To nullify a union so valueless cost no qualm to the Pontiff, and, probably, as little to the lady. To match her with the widowed Lord of Pesaro scarcely required the persuasions of his relation Ludovico il Moro, and his brother-in-law, Duke Guidobaldo, whose good offices the Pope put in requisition to arrange preliminaries with the bridegroom, paying at the same time 3000 ducats as a solace to her first husband. The betrothal, in May, was celebrated by a ball in the palace of Pesaro, from which the assembled guests issued forth in couples, dancing through the streets a sort of polonaise, which was led by the papal ambassador! The nuptial ceremony was postponed until Lucrezia's arrival from Spain in the following spring, and it was not until June that the bridal party reached their capital.[*250]

Having arranged this marriage, Alexander sent Duke Guidobaldo, along with his son Cesare, against the Orsini. The former, though only in his twenty-second year, was already suffering from gout, his fatal malady, which had first shown itself during the rejoicings at Giovanni Sforza's betrothal. But he resisted it with great courage, addicting himself more than ever to the hardy exercises of the camp. The partizan warfare on which the Pope thus employed him as gonfaloniere of the Church, was, however, productive of little glory, and the Orsini, driven by superior force from their new lands, awaited an opportunity for retaliation. The nuptials of Lucrezia took place in 1494, after she had made a triumphal entry into Rome, scandalous even in that pontificate of scandal. The ceremonial was witnessed by a select party of ecclesiastical dignitaries, and a hundred and fifty of the handsomest women of Rome, selected without regard to their character, whose husbands were excluded. To each of these dames the Pope presented a silver cup of confections, which, amid much outrageous merriment, were emptied into their bosoms, "and all to the honour and praise of Almighty God and the Romish Church," as the contemporary narrator caustically observes.[251] The same parties then paired off to supper, which was prolonged some hours beyond midnight, the company being entertained by dramatic representations of a most impure character. In all these revels Alexander and his then favourite, Giulia Bella took part, and they were fitly wound up by his conducting in person the bride to her husband's couch. For the introduction of such disgusting details an apology may be due, but without them, general declamation on the vices of the Borgian court would convey no just idea of the truth. That the loathsome picture is under-coloured, may be supposed from a concluding remark of the diarist, that he had suppressed many reports regarding this orgy, as they seemed either false or exceeding credibility. Bad as is this scene, it is pure compared with some described by Burchard, another journalist of the Vatican obscenities. In June, Lucrezia set out for her new home, and, resting a night at Urbino on the way, was received with the honours due to her rank. A furious tempest, in which she next day entered her capital, ruined the costly preparations intended to celebrate her welcome, and was remembered afterwards as ominous of the result of her marriage, and of the mischiefs occasioned there by the Borgia. But men's minds were quickly roused from idle festivities. The barbarians were already scaling the Alps; Italy and her spoils lay at their feet.

In return for the favours bestowed upon his children, the Pope renewed to Alfonso his investiture of Naples, and sent thither his own nephew, the Cardinal of Monreale, to attend his coronation and the betrothal of his daughter to Giuffredo Borgia. But, with wonted cunning, Alexander kept open a retreat from this alliance, by instructing the Cardinal to obtain as a personal favour, the return to Rome of his hostage child and bride. He celebrated their arrival in May following, with pompous festivities exceeding in splendour the reception accorded to royal personages, and, in defiance of public decency, appeared in consistory, and in the papal chair of St. Peter, at the solemn function of Pentecost, between the bastard bride of his bastard son, and his dissolute daughter Lucrezia.

Such was the position of Italy at the moment of the French invasion, the calamities of which are thus prefigured by Guicciardini. "From it originated not only the revolution of states, the subversion of dynasties, the desolation of provinces, the destruction of cities, the most savage massacres; but likewise altered habits, changed morals, a new and more sanguinary mode of warfare, and therewith diseases previously unknown; it also so entirely disorganised the guarantees for concord and internal tranquillity, that these could never be replaced, and thus was the country left to be trodden down and wasted by other foreign nations and barbarian armies. By a yet greater misfortune, in order that our shame might derive no alleviation from the prowess of our enemy, he whose invasion brought us so many mischiefs, although most amply endowed with the bounties of fortune, was destitute of almost every natural or mental endowment. For Charles was from his childhood of languid complexion, deformed person, and diminutive stature, besides having a countenance singularly repulsive but for his penetrating and dignified glance, with limbs so disproportioned as to resemble a monster rather than a man. Nor was he only destitute of liberal acquirements; he scarcely knew his letters. Although greedy of empire, there was nothing for which he was less qualified; for he was encircled by a few, with whom he maintained neither dignity nor authority; he was averse to all occupation and business, and, when he did apply to his affairs, was alike wanting in prudence and judgment. Even such apparently laudable qualities as he seemed to possess proved, on examination, more akin to vices than to virtues. Thus his inclination for glory was from impulse rather than matured resolution; his liberality was ill directed and without discrimination or degree; wavering at times in his counsels, he was oftener guided by foolish obstinacy than by decision; and what many called good-nature would have been better named indifference or easiness of temper." The description given by a son of Andrea Mantegna is still less favourable to the King's appearance. "He is said to have a very ill-favoured face, with great goggle eyes, an aquiline nose offensively large, and a head disfigured by few and sparse hairs. When I think of such a little hunchy fellow my fancy is struck with wonder."[252] We shall add one other characteristic sketch of a monarch for whom fortune destined a part strangely at variance with his qualifications. It was given by Ludovico il Moro, in December of this year, to the Venetian resident at his court, and has been obligingly communicated to me by Mr. Rawdon Brown, than whom no one is more perfectly versed in the transactions of that republic. "The man is young, and his conduct meagre, nor has he any form or method of council. His assistants are divided into two factions, one headed by the Comte de Bresse, the other by St. Malo and Beaucaire with their adherents; they are violently opposed to each other on every topic, and provided the one thwart the other and carry his point, no regard soever is had for the King's interests. They attend to the accumulation of coin, and care for nothing else; nor would all of them put together make half a wise man. I remember when at Asti seeing him in a room with the members of his assembled council, and, whilst discussing any matter, one kept playing, another was eating breakfast, a third was attending to this, a fourth to that; and the King was in motion the whole time whilst listening to any one. He would order letters to be couched in a certain form, and subsequently countermand them on hearing another person's ideas."[253]

It would lead us far beyond our limits to follow the blunders which on both sides signalised the campaign. Charles opened it by sending an army into Lombardy, under Sir Bernard Stuart of Aubigny, cousin-german of John first Earl of Lennox in Scotland, whose career in arms was rewarded with many dignities, and who, after uniting his troops with those of Ludovico il Moro, his now unwilling ally, advanced on Romagna. The King, leaving Vienne upon the 22nd of August, took the Cenis pass with the main body of his forces, and on the 9th of September was at Asti in Piedmont. From thence he visited Milan, before marching against Florence. To meet these formidable foes, Alfonso alone manifested any energy. He sent a fleet to the Ligurian coast to watch a naval armament which had been fitted out at Marseilles, and, if possible, to make a diversion upon Genoa. He at the same time dispatched his eldest son Ferdinand, Duke of Calabria, accompanied by two experienced generals, NicolÒ Orsini Count of Petigliano and Gian Giacomo Trivulzio, to support the Bolognese against the onset of d'Aubigny. Being joined at Cesena by Guidobaldo of Urbino, who had been engaged by Alfonso with 200 men-at-arms, at an annual pay of 24,000 ducats, and by Giovanni Sforza, the Duke found himself at the head of 2500 men-at-arms and 8000 foot, of whom the portion belonging to Florence was commanded by Annibale Bentivoglio. But none of these leaders possessed a master influence suited to the crisis. The spirit of cordiality and mutual confidence, which alone could promise success, was on this as on all similar occasions wanting to Italy; and whilst Trivulzio and the other commanders, confident in the superiority of their army, urged on a decisive engagement, Petigliano exposed himself to the charge of sluggishness or the suspicion of bad faith, by frustrating all their endeavours.

The forces of the league had orders to advance towards Parma, and meet the French and Milanese troops under d'Aubigny and Gian Francesco da Sanseverino, Count of Cajazzo, who had been retained by Ludovico il Moro. This, however, they were unable to effect, and, finding themselves much inferior in strength to the invaders, they retired upon Faenza. In that neighbourhood the two armies remained for some time, face to face, without further encounter than a few skirmishes, in which Guidobaldo distinguished his bravery. Whilst they lost time in disunited counsels, the progress of Charles in Central Italy occasioned the recall of the Florentine and papal contingents. The princes of Romagna, seeing the game virtually lost, found excuses for liberating themselves from a falling cause, and by withdrawing to their several states, sought safety in a neutral position. The Duke of Calabria thus abandoned, retired within the Neapolitan frontier to await fresh instructions from his father; and thus was the last chance of saving Italy shamefully lost. Meanwhile the French monarch took the road by Pontremoli and Sarzana, which fortress and Pietra Santa, Pietro de' Medici surrendered to him in a panic, as base as it was inexplicable. Disgusted with his cowardice, Florence and Pisa rose and expelled his whole race, but rashly crediting the assurances of Charles that he came as a deliverer and friend of liberty, received him with open arms.

The description of an eye-witness to the overthrow of the Medici conveys a vivid picture of the revolutions so common in republican Florence. It has been printed by Gaye,[254] from the original diary of Giusto. "On Sunday the 9th of November, the people of Florence rose in arms against the palle, that is, against Pietro de' Medici, who had so used his sway, and who repaired to the palace. The populace, observing this, rushed thither, crying, 'Live the people and liberty!' the children being first in the piazza: and by God's will all Florence armed and hurried to the palace, calling out, 'People and liberty!' so that Pietro, the Cardinal, and Giuliano his brother fled. And there was a reward of 2000 florins proclaimed by the Signory, for whoever would bring the Cardinal alive or dead to the palace; and thus matters continued. Next day all the banners and pennons were set up, and such was the people's fury at the palace, throughout the town, and at the gates, day and night, that although I have four times found Florence in arms since 1458, this has been the most unanimous and extraordinary affair, from the efforts made by the lilies to erase the balls [gigli and palle, the respective arms of the republic and of the Medici]: even children two or three years old, by a miracle, cried in the houses 'People and liberty!' and among them our little Catherine. Thus by God's grace did this community free itself from the hands of many tyrants, who, thanks to the blessed God! were expelled without bloodshed."

But with these revolutions, which ended in giving to Florence and Pisa independent popular governments,[*255] and with the war of rivalry which consequently ensued between them, we have at present no concern. The struggle was maintained during several years, with an obstinacy and bitterness which more than once compromised the general tranquillity of the Peninsula; when it terminated Pisa had been ruined and Florence was bankrupt. It was at this crisis that there occurred an anecdote preserved in the Corteggiano, among the facetiÆ of the court of Urbino. One of the Florentine council, in a committee of ways and means, proposed to augment the customs revenue by doubling the number of city gates at which dues were collected!

Alexander, ever too occupied with private objects to heed the general cause, had meanwhile, upon a petty quarrel with the Colonna, withdrawn his troops from Romagna, to waste them and much precious time in wretched partizan struggles with these fractious barons, and in this miserable trifling employed his son Cesare. Vainly confident while no immediate danger impended, he had flattered himself that the French invasion would come to nothing. But when he saw two powerful armies reach his frontier, without obstacle or check, terror succeeded to foolish security. Abandoning his ally of Naples, he humbly besought his personal enemy Cardinal Ascanio Sforza to mediate with the French monarch in his behalf. Yet to the latest moment did he waver, alternately insolent and abject, fawning and fickle. Through these fluctuations it is needless to follow him. On the last day of 1494 the invading army marched unopposed and triumphant into Rome, and, leaving the city on the 28th of January, advanced towards Naples. A panic had already seized upon Alfonso, his army, and his people. On the 23rd of January he abdicated the crown in favour of his son Ferdinand, and fled with his treasures to Sicily, where he died after ten months of abject austerities, as an offset to long years of aggravated debauchery. The new King, upon his bloodless rout at the Garigliano, found himself without money, and supported neither by his troops nor his subjects. The bold front which he assumed availed nothing in circumstances so desperate. He retired to Ischia, and on the 22nd of February Charles took possession of Naples, amid the acclamations of a populace, whom the iron sway of the false and gloomy Ferdinand, and of his sanguinary son, had alienated from the Aragonese dynasty. But though we pass thus rapidly over the campaign of the French and Spaniards in Lower Italy, its results were of lasting importance. The foretaste of the Peninsula then obtained by these nations as its invaders or defenders stimulated a fatal relish for its attractions; and the appetite thus engendered was not stayed until that fair land had been trodden down by successive hosts, scarcely less damaging to her prosperity and destructive to her liberties as her selfish allies, than as her open foes.

Experience had by this time shown the folly of the Italian policy, and the various states were not unwilling to profit by its lesson. Forgetting for the moment their individual ends, they resolved to throw off an incubus which threatened to make the Peninsula a province of France. Ludovico Sforza had long sought to resile from his ill-judged engagements with Charles; the Venetians found that the Turkish crusade was but a false pretext; the Florentines saw their adhesion to the invader repaid by the loss of Pisa; the Pope, ever inclined to intrigue, was more especially ready to join in any plan which should open an escape from his blunders in bringing down such dangerous neighbours. Nor did the ultra-montane powers view with satisfaction so vast an accession to French influence. Ferdinand II. of Spain, whose envoy had formally broken with Charles ere he crossed the Neapolitan frontier, now put himself forward to wean the Venetians from their neutrality. Maximilian (who, not having been crowned, was only King of the Romans, but whom we shall generally call Emperor) burned for opportunity of avenging a double wrong which the French monarch had done him by jilting his daughter Margaret, and by espousing his betrothed bride, Anne of Bretagne. Having himself married in 1493 Bianca Sforza, her uncle Ludovico il Moro bribed him by a large dowry to take advantage of certain alleged flaws in the Milanese investitures, and to recognise him as Duke, passing over his sickly nephew Giovanni Galeazzo. The new charter in favour of Il Moro reached him immediately after the death of the latter, whose feeble and wretched existence was terminated, perhaps by poison, in October 1494. He left a son, and in defiance of the title of this child, whose injuries his uncle, Alfonso of Naples, was no longer in circumstances to redress, Ludovico seized the trappings of that sovereignty, which he virtually had usurped long before the imperial diploma reached him. Thus were these parties prepared for a united exertion in the common cause; and the minor feudatories of the Peninsula willingly joined them in a five years' league, for the purpose of restoring and maintaining the independence of Italy. It was concluded at Venice, on the 31st of March 1495, and by it Germany, Spain, Venice, Milan, and the Pope were bound to furnish 34,000 horse, and 20,000 foot, or monied contributions proportioned to their respective contingents of that force.

Charles and his army had abandoned themselves to the intoxication of their easy conquest, and to excess in those pleasures which in the Ausonian climate seem to enervate natives and strangers. From this careless security, news of the alliance roused him to the danger of being entrapped in his new kingdom. Leaving half his army there to maintain his authority, he on the 20th of May set out with the remainder on his return homeward. Hastily retracing the same route, he saw difficulties increasing around him, but avoided hostilities, until in descending the Apennines into Lombardy he found himself intercepted among the defiles of the Taro by the allied army, so superior in force as to render his destruction next to inevitable, even without taking into account the immense advantages of the position which they had selected. But the singular good fortune which had enabled the French monarch to overrun the whole Peninsula, conquer a kingdom, and retire in the face of opposing Europe, without once calling into exercise whatever talent, judgment, or bravery he might have possessed, did not forsake him in this his first difficulty. The confederates, by unpardonable want of good understanding among their leaders, and of steadiness among their troops, let slip the precious opportunity of exterminating their invaders. On the 6th of July they suffered on the Taro an overthrow which they vainly claimed as a victory, and after a brief hour's conflict retired in disorder, leaving above three thousand men on the field. Of this battle Guicciardini remarks that it was the first for a long period that had been really sanguinary in its character, compared with those tactic engagements of the condottieri, in which bloodshed was little sought on either side. As the earliest struggle between Italy and her invaders, the only occasion when her disunited interests were rallied beneath one banner, it holds a place in history which in a military view it by no means merited.[256] It was lost by the delays, distracted counsels, and deficient discipline among the allies, and brought little glory to the retreating army, which, without further opposition, reached Asti, where a strong garrison had been left, and in October re-entered France. The Aragonese party was strong in Naples, and within six weeks after Charles had quitted that capital, Ferdinand II. was welcomed back to it by a versatile people, whom the never-failing insolence of the French had quickly disgusted with their change of masters. The kingdom was gradually recovered from its invaders and their supporters, the Angevine barons, by aid of Spanish succours under Gonsalvo di Cordova, whose gallantry and skill during a harassing guerilla campaign established his reputation, and procured him the name of the Great Captain. Montpensier, when left as viceroy in command of the army of occupation, made feeble head against him for above a year, until most of his troops having dropped under the effects of climate and debauchery, he surrendered the remainder as prisoners of war. Lower Italy, again under Ferdinand's sway, was no more disturbed by Charles, who wasted the brief remainder of his life in dissolute indulgences, better becoming his despicable character than foreign conquests.

Thus terminated the first of those systematic and successful invasions from which Italy has suffered in later ages. Various circumstances combined to modify its serious results upon her prosperity, and though almost unopposed, the victors perhaps paid more dearly than the vanquished. But the seeds of mischief were sown, too surely to ripen into fatal evils. The nations of the north had learned important lessons; her temptations, her disunion, and her consequent powerlessness had been disclosed to them. This epoch may indeed be regarded as the turning point of European history. From it the liberties and prosperity of Italy declined, and the new combinations, alliances, and intermarriages then formed by ultra-montane governments gradually matured that political system which has since come to be regarded as the bulwark of national independence. We have introduced this rapid sketch of the French expedition, because, although it but slightly influenced Guidobaldo's position, subsequent events, to which it in some degree gave occasion, brought forward himself and his successor as prominent actors. He had been engaged by the Venetian republic to join the confederate army with four hundred and seventy horse, but had no share in the disgraceful conflict at the Taro; his squadrons, however, seem to have been there under his natural brother Antonio, who, while commanding the reserve, might have turned the fortune of the day, but for an oversight in the transmission of orders to him.

The Pisan war was the immediate fruit of the French invasion, as regarded the internal relations of the Peninsula. Charles, remembering the old proverb, "sow divisions and rule," or perhaps from a mere love of mischief-making, had instigated that city to throw off the yoke of Florence, and re-establish its ancient republican independence. But the support which he had pledged to it was forgotten, when personal considerations rendered a retreat advisable; and the Pisans were left to maintain themselves as best they could against their old rivals and recent masters, with the aid of a French brigade under Monsieur d'Entragues. The Florentines lost no time in engaging the Duke of Urbino to command their troops for three years, who, by active and well-judged movements, quickly possessed himself of Ponte Sacco, Palaia, and other small towns about the Era. Their resistance was punished with the usual barbarity of the time, by cold-blooded cruelties which Guidobaldo does not appear to have shared or approved. It seems questionable how far the blunders in an assault on Vicopisano were owing to him or to the Florentine commissaries, who, as was usual in the service of the great republics, were sent to control their general; but the consequence was a repulse, after which he retired into winter quarters. His subsequent operations in their service are of no interest; their jealousies paralysing both his spirit and their own.

The last year's experience was but short-lived in the Italian states. Instead of profiting by the absence of their common foe to strengthen themselves against a recurrence of danger, they resumed their innate rivalries, and fomented fresh discord. The Florentines, far from joining the league to expel Charles, continued to favour his cause, attributing, with justice, to his advent their liberation from the Medici and the re-establishment of a democratic government. What they, above all things, dreaded was the return of that banished race, so they kept aloof from any new combination that might lead to it. This contumacy was looked upon with little favour by those powers who were averse to popular institutions, or friendly to Pietro de' Medici; besides which they apprehended that such a state of matters, if allowed to continue, would facilitate a repetition of the late invasion. In accordance with the crooked policy of the age, they succoured Pisa, without any open declaration of the war which they were in fact carrying on against Florence. This circumstance, and the wonted bad faith of Ludovico il Moro, complicated a struggle which was conducted in the drawling spirit of half-fighting, half-negotiating, usual in such petty strifes. Ludovico finally tempted the Emperor to a fresh invasion of Italy, in order to force Florence into the general league, but he conducted the enterprise with equal feebleness and faithlessness, and after having occupied Pisa, retreated without leaving any material impression on the campaign, which declined into a series of unimportant skirmishes. Meanwhile the Pope, the Venetians, and Sforza united in exciting various neighbours of the Florentines, such as the Bentivoglii, the Riarii, and Siena, to molest their frontiers, whilst Virginio Orsini prepared to restore the Medici by arms. This plan, however, fell to the ground, and Guidobaldo was soon after summoned, as a vassal of the Church, to leave his incomplete term of unsatisfactory service under the lilies of Florence, and join the new combination formed by the Pontiff to replace Ferdinand upon the Neapolitan throne.

The fate of the French army at Naples, against the wreck of which this expedition was directed, has been already mentioned. The evolutions whereby Guidobaldo, as lieutenant-general of the ecclesiastical forces, in concert with the great Gonsalvo di Cordova, reduced some Angevine feudatories in the Abruzzi, who, supported by the Orsini, for a time resisted the restoration of the house of Aragon, need not occupy our attention. The particulars are involved in contradiction, and the results were unimportant to his fame. No sooner had Ferdinand triumphed over his difficulties than he was called to another sphere. He died in October, 1496, and was succeeded by his paternal uncle Federigo. Of the French, not above five hundred escaped from sword and pestilence to reach home.

Peace was once more restored to Italy, but not to the breast of that turbulent Pontiff who was her curse. The moment was propitious for resuming his favourite scheme of oppressing the Orsini, in whose extensive estates he saw ample endowments for his own disreputable progeny. The leaders of that family, Virginio, Gian-Giordano, Paolo, and its adopted scion Bartolomeo d'Alviano of Orvieto, had fought against Ferdinand's restoration, and all of them remained prisoners in his hands.[257] The Pope at once perceived the chance thus offered, and hastened to avail himself of it. After conciliating the Duke of Urbino by a pompous reception on the 14th of October, and by assigning him apartments in the Vatican, he held a secret consistory, which attainted the Orsini on general charges of lese-majesty and rebellion, and sanctioned the military occupation of their fiefs in name of the Church. He entrusted the command to his son the Duke of Gandia, associating with him the Duke of Urbino and Fabrizio Colonna (the latter but too willing to promote the downfall of a rival house), and, to inaugurate the expedition, he blessed the banners at St. Peter's, with an imposing military and religious spectacle.

The troops marched in October, and, having reduced Isola, a castle within ten miles of Rome, which stood a twelve days' siege, many other small strongholds speedily surrendered, their absent lords being unable to aid in their defence. The fortress of Bracciano was, however, strong by nature, and was held by Bartolomea, sister of Virginio Orsini, with energy, talent, and unquailing resolution, which saved her family in their urgent straits, and kept the assailants at bay until her husband, Bartolomeo d'Alviano, escaping from Naples, hastily raised a few old adherents of his adopted house, and hurried to her rescue. The impetuous Alexander, disgusted by this dilatory progress of affairs, had a lighter hastily built, and sent under a strong escort to the lake of Bracciano, in order to aid the besiegers' efforts, and to intercept the manoeuvres of the enemy, whose petty force, passing by the water from one castle to another as occasion required, was enabled to garrison the three separate strongholds of Bracciano, Anguillara, and Trevignano. A well-timed ambuscade, laid by d'Alviano, routed the escort, and the boat was burnt. In another sally Bartolomeo, falling upon Cesare Borgia while hunting, chased him almost to the gates of Rome, and, but for the fleetness of his horse, would have obtained in his person the means of dictating terms to his father. Of these incidents a partizan warfare was naturally more productive than a more serious campaign.

Tired of such inglorious marauding, and aware how much delays might tell against eventual success, Guidobaldo, although suffering from a gunshot wound, pushed on operations to the utmost, but was met by a most obstinate resistance, until affairs suddenly assumed an entirely new aspect. Virginio, head of the Bracciano Orsini, his eldest son Gian-Giordano, and cousin Paolo, were still captives at Naples; but his natural son Carlo had repaired to the court of Charles VIII. to crave assistance. There he found Vitellozzo Vitelli, on a similar mission in behalf of his brother Paolo, who, having been suspected by the Florentines of perfidy while in their service against Pisa, had been arrested by them, and who was subsequently tortured and put to death upon this charge. They easily obtained from that King a subsidy to be employed for advantage of the French party in Italy, and, hastening back, devoted it to the relief of Bracciano. The two Vitelli were chiefs of a family whose pedigree is annexed, and who long held CittÀ di Castello in seigneury, greatly distinguished among the military adventurers of the south. These brothers had paid especial attention to training their hardy mountaineers in the art of war, with all those improvements which the ultra-montane troops had recently introduced. Vitellozzo, hurrying to the upper valley of the Tiber, quickly recruited his old followers, whilst Carlo levied men about Perugia and Todi. Guidobaldo with difficulty persuaded his coadjutors to anticipate the attack thus preparing for them, by marching towards Viterbo in quest of the enemy. In the action which followed, on the 23rd of January, the ecclesiastical troops, though inferior in numbers, had at first some advantage, but the unskilful management of their artillery turned the day, and they were in the end totally routed, with loss of it and their baggage. Guidobaldo, having been surrounded, fought with the utmost bravery, until his horse fell under him, when he was taken prisoner by Battista Tosi, a Roman knight. In this reverse the Colonna and Savelli shared deeply, their ancient hatred of the Orsini having blinded them to the danger which they, in turn, equally incurred from the selfish designs of the Pope. The latter was filled with consternation, and would have brought the whole force of Naples into the field. But his impetuous energy, being neither based on principle nor maintained with perseverance, was quickly discouraged by the coldness of Federigo, who had no inclination to consume his already dilapidated resources in ministering to the Pontiff's schemes of nepotism. The higher range to which these projects were perhaps already aspiring may have conduced to the arrangement by which his quarrel with the Orsini was patched up, gilded as it was by the to him irresistible bait of 70,000 ducats towards the expenses of the war.

The Duke of Urbino was committed to ward in Soriano, a castle of the Orsini, near which his defeat had occurred, and the whole influence of his family and numerous friends was exerted for his liberation under the truce which ensued. With this view Dr. Marino Giorgi, envoy from Venice to Naples, was instructed by the Signory to make a detour to Urbino, in order in their name to console the Duchess, and then to Soriano and Bracciano, for the purpose of negotiating her husband's release.[258] But their interposition was fruitless, as he was specially excluded from the free interchange of prisoners, and held to ransom for 40,000 ducats, without which timely aid the Orsini would have been unable to discharge the contribution imposed on them for the costs of the war. Alexander having, without scruple, left a faithful vassal and ally in his enemy's hands, had no delicacy in thus pocketing from his captors the sum which this cruel abandonment cost Guidobaldo. So large an amount was not, however, raised without difficulty from the sale of jewels, and other heavy sacrifices by the Duchess, and several of his subjects, which they did not hesitate to incur. It may perhaps have been modified to 30,000 ducats, that being the sum mentioned by Sanuto as paid for his liberation.[259] At Gubbio he was warmly welcomed by his consort and people, and during more than a year he enjoyed at home the blessings and leisure of peace, "after having suffered much and most unfairly."