A grand fete was arranged for the following day, but the king fell suddenly ill of small-pox, and had to call in Messer Ambrogio da Rosate to attend him. All his plans were altered, and more than a fortnight elapsed before he was able to leave his room. This delay discouraged the French, who suffered from the great heat, and complained, as Commines tells us, of the sourness of the country wine, the last vintage having been a bad one. All Lodovico's smooth words and tact were needed to keep the leaders in good humour in these trying circumstances. On the other hand, Alfonso of Naples, taking courage, boldly announced that the approach of winter and want of pay would force the French to retreat, and Piero de' Medici sent a troop of Florentine soldiers to join the Duke of Calabria in Romagna. But their triumph was of short duration. On the 6th of October the king had recovered sufficiently to leave Asti, and while most of his army marched direct to Piacenza, he himself travelled by Casale and through the dominions of his ally, the young Marquis of Montferrat, to Vigevano. Here Lodovico and Beatrice once more gave their royal guest a splendid reception, and held a banquet and boar-hunt in his honour during the next two days. The beauty of the palace, and the wealth and magnificence displayed on all sides, filled the French with wonder; but although Charles took Lodovico's advice on all points, and was apparently on the most cordial terms with his host, he asked for the keys of the castle at night, and desired his guards to keep strict watch at the gates. "The fashion of their friendship was such," says Commines, "that it could not last long. But for the present the king could not do without Lodovico."

On the 13th, Charles slept at the Sforzesca and visited Lodovico's famous farm of La Pecorara, or Les Granges, as the French chroniclers termed this vast farm, where agricultural industries were cultivated on such a splendid scale. They saw the spacious buildings, the stables with their noble columns and separate accommodation for mares and stallions, and the superb breed of horses which were reared under Messer Galeazzo's care; the pastures with their 14,000 buffaloes, oxen, and cows, and as many sheep and goats; and the large dairies, where butter and cheese were made on the most approved system, and marvelled afresh at the industry of the Milanese farmers and the wealth and fertility of this wonderful land. The next day the king went on to Pavia, where triumphal arches had been prepared for his reception, and the clergy and professors of the university hailed his presence in long harangues and complimentary speeches. At first lodgings had been prepared for him in the city, but, according to Commines, some of the king's followers had inspired him with fears of foul play, and he preferred to take up his abode in the Castello itself. Lodovico himself showed him the library and other treasures of his ancestral palace, and took him out hunting in the park. On the 15th, he visited the Duomo and Arca di S. Agostino, and on the 16th, rode out to the Certosa, where the monks entertained both princes at a grand banquet in a house outside the cloister precincts. In the evenings, comedies were acted or musical entertainments given in the Castello for the king's amusement.

At the time of Charles's visit to Pavia, the Duke and Duchess of Milan and their children were occupying their rooms in the Castello, but during the last few weeks Giangaleazzo had become seriously ill and was unable to leave his bed. Both his wife and his mother Bona were assiduous in their attentions to the sick prince, and Isabella hardly ever left his bedside. The chronicler Godefroy, who has left us so faithful and accurate an account of Charles VIII.'s expedition, describes the splendid fetes given to the king at Pavia, and says that the Duchess Isabella, with her young son Francesco, herself received him at the portico of the Castello, but does not mention his visit to the sick duke. Another trustworthy authority, Corio, tells us that Charles with great thoughtfulness paid a visit to his cousin, who was suffering from an incurable disease, and growing visibly worse, and that the unfortunate duke recommended his wife and children to the king's care. Commines, who was at Pavia three days before Charles, on his way to Venice, says that he saw the little four-year-old prince Francesco, but not the duke, since he was very ill and his wife very sorrowful, watching by his bedside. "However," he adds, "the king spoke with him, and told me their words, which only related to general subjects, for he feared to displease Lodovico; all the same, he told me afterwards that he would have willingly given him a warning. And the duchess threw herself on her knees before Lodovico, begging him to have pity upon her father and brother. To which he replied that he could do nothing, and told her to pray rather for her husband and for herself, who was still so young and fair a lady."

The Venetian chronicler, Marino Sanuto, gives a more sensational account of the interview. According to him, Isabella absolutely refused to see the king, and, seizing a dagger, declared she would stab herself rather than meet her father's mortal enemy. Lodovico, however, in the end induced her to receive the king, upon which she threw herself in tears at the feet of Charles VIII., and implored him to spare her father and brother and the house of Aragon. The king's kindly heart was touched with compassion at the grief of the unhappy princess, but he only spoke a few consoling words, and promised that her son should be as dear to him as if he were his own son. When Isabella renewed her earnest entreaties on her father's behalf, he replied that it was too late for him to give up the expedition, which had already cost him so much trouble and money, and which was now so far advanced that he could not retire with honour. On the 17th of October, Charles, after assisting at mass in the chapel of the Castello, left Pavia for Piacenza, where he joined the French army and prepared to enter Tuscan territory. Here he learnt that the Duke of Calabria had been worsted in two engagements by the forces of the Count of Caiazzo and the French under d'Aubigny, and was in full retreat. And here on the 20th, a courier from Pavia arrived, bringing Lodovico word that his nephew was dying. He set out at once for Pavia, and met another messenger on the way who told him that the duke was already dead. Two days after Charles VIII.'s departure from Pavia, Giangaleazzo became suddenly worse. A fresh attack of fever was brought on by his own folly in drinking large quantities of wine and eating pears and apples contrary to his doctor's express orders, in spite of the continual sickness from which he suffered. The next day he was rather better, and in the evening of the 20th, the four doctors who were attending him sent Lodovico an improved account, saying that the duke had slept for some hours, and had afterwards been able to take some chicken-broth, raw eggs, and wine. Now he had fallen asleep again. He was certainly no worse, they added, although still very weak and by no means out of danger. That same evening he spoke cheerfully to his trusted servant, Dionigi Confanerio, and asked to see two horses which Lodovico had sent him, and which were brought into the hall adjoining his rooms for his inspection. Afterwards he spoke affectionately of his uncle, and said he was sure that Lodovico would have come to see him if he had not been obliged to wait upon the French king. And he asked Dionigi in a confidential tone if he thought that Lodovico loved him and was sorry to see him so ill, and seemed quite satisfied with his attendant's assurances on the subject. A former prior of Vigevano, who had known the dying prince from his childhood, and had been summoned to Pavia by the duchess, now paid the duke a visit and heard his confession, after which Giangaleazzo asked to see his greyhounds, which were brought to his bedside, and spoke cheerfully of his speedy recovery before he fell asleep. Early the next morning he died in the presence of his wife and mother and the doctors who had attended him during the last few weeks.

A few hours later Lodovico reached Pavia, and without a moment's delay hastened on to Milan, giving orders that the duke's body should be removed as soon as possible to the Duomo of Milan. There during the next three days the dead prince lay before the high altar, clad in the ducal cap and robes, with his sword and sceptre at his side, and his white face exposed to view. Meanwhile Lodovico had lost no time. His first act, on his arrival in the Castello, was to summon the councillors, magistrates, and chief citizens of Milan to a meeting on the following day, but even before these dignitaries could be assembled, he called together a few of his immediate friends and courtiers in the great hall of the Rocchetta, and after informing them of his nephew's premature and lamentable end, proposed that his son Francesco should be proclaimed duke in his father's place. Upon this, Antonio da Landriano, prefect of the Treasury, responded in an eloquent speech, dwelling on the danger in these troublous times of placing the helm of the state in the hands of a four-year-old child, and calling on Lodovico, for the sake of the people whom he had hitherto ruled so well and wisely in his nephew's name, to undertake the burden of sovereignty and ascend the ducal throne. "Since the death of Giangaleazzo's father," he said, "we have had no duke but you; you alone among our princes can grasp the ducal sceptre with a firm hand." These last words were hailed with loud applause by the Moro's friends, and when Landriano had ended his speech, Galeazzo Visconti Baldassare Pusterla, the able lawyer Andrea Cagnola, and several other councillors, well known for their devotion to the Moro, all spoke in the same strain.

"It was propounded," writes Guicciardini, "by the principals of the Counsell, that, in regard of the greatness of that estate and the dangerous times prepared now for Italy, it would be a thing prejudicial that the sonne of John Galeaz, having not five yeares in age, should succeed his father, and therefore, as well as to keepe the liberties of the State in protection, as to be able to meete with the inconveniences which the time threatened, they thought it just and necessary—derogating somewhat for the public benefite, and for the necessite present from the disposition of the laws—as the laws themselves do suffer to constraine Lodovic, for the better stay of the commonweale, to suffer that unto him might be transported the title and dignitie of Duke, a burden very weightie, in so dangerous a season; with the which colour, honestie giving place to ambition, the morning following, making some show of resistance, he tooke upon him the name and armes of the Duke of Milan."

The Florentine historian's account of the transaction is accurate in all but the last particular. Lodovico was indeed proclaimed duke in his nephew's stead, and, clad in a mantle of cloth of gold, rode that afternoon through the streets of the city, and visited the church of S. Ambrogio, to give thanks for his accession to the throne. The ducal sword and sceptre were borne before him by Galeazzo Visconti, the bells were rung, and the trumpets sounded, while the people hailed him with shouts of Duca! Duca! Moro! Moro! But he was careful to style himself Lodovicus Dux, and would not assume the title of Duke of Milan until he had received the imperial privileges, confirming his election and granting him the investiture of the duchy. These he lost no time in securing. Already a few weeks before this, Maximilian, mindful of his engagements at the time of his wedding, had sent his wife's uncle the diploma granting him the desired investiture for himself and his sons, both legitimate and illegitimate, in succession. The original deed has never been discovered, but, according to Corio, the diploma was granted on the 5th of September at Antwerp, with the express stipulation that it was not to be published until after the Feast of St. Martin. This diploma must have reached Lodovico a week or two before his nephew's death, and had been kept secret, in obedience to Maximilian's desires. That memorable day when he rode through the streets of Milan, accompanied by the ambassadors of Florence and Ferrara, he said in reply to the congratulations of the latter, our old friend Giacomo Trotti, "In another month you will hear greater news." "I verily believe you," said the Florentine, Pietro Alamanni, who recorded these words, to Piero de' Medici, "that he means to make himself greater still, and dreams of a kingdom of Insubria and Liguria." And Donato de' Preti evidently thought the same. "Signor Lodovico," he wrote to Isabella d'Este, "is not yet called Duke of Milan, but merely duke, and all documents sent out by the Cancelleria are worded in this manner. Some persons who knew his Excellency well, say that it is his intention to call himself Rex Insubrium. On the return of the ambassador who has been sent to the emperor, perhaps this will be announced."

Now that Giangaleazzo was actually dead, the Moro felt that there was no time to be lost in obtaining the publication of the imperial diploma. Accordingly he ordered one of his most trusted agents, Maffeo Pirovano, to start the next day for Antwerp, with letters informing Maximilian and his wife of Giangaleazzo's death, and asking for the prompt despatch of ambassadors with the coveted privileges. And that same evening he wrote long and minute instructions to Maffeo himself and to Erasmo Brasca at Antwerp, urging them to lose no time in laying the case before the emperor. The letter to Maffeo, discovered in the Taverna archives at Milan, and first published by Signor Calvi in his life of Bianca Sforza, is of especial interest.

"MAPHEO,—We have written this evening to Germany to inform the Most Serene King of the Romans of the death of the illustrious Duke, our nephew, and must now send you to state our case viva voce to his Majesty, desiring him to give effect in our person to the ducal privileges, which he never consented to give our nephew, in consequence of the wrong which the emperor supposed to have been done him by our father and brother, in holding the duchy without any concession from the imperial authorities. And therefore the said king has conceded these privileges to us, as being innocent of this fault, and as having claims to the title by reason of our maternal descent, but has desired that these privileges should not be made public before the next feast of St. Martin, and before this date will not fix the time and place for the expedition of the said privileges. The approach of this time, the fact that this death has compelled us to take up the succession, have impelled us to send an envoy to the said king, and for this purpose we have made choice of yourself, being persuaded that your faithfulness and prudence will be equal to the gravity of this emergency. And so I desire you to start with the utmost speed, and not to rest till you have found his Majesty, and our councillor and ambassador Messer Erasmo Brasca, to whom you will explain the reason of your coming, and having through his means obtained an audience of his Majesty, you will pay him our dutiful respects, and, after delivering your credentials, by virtue of them will proceed to tell him how immediately after this death the chiefs of the State and of the people of this city approached me to offer their condolences in the customary manner, and signified their fears and anxieties as to the succession. One and all, speaking in the name of the State, declared that they would have no lord but ourselves, and entreated us with earnest words to accept this dignity, saying that if we refused they would not be content and would have to consider some other mode of action. After this has been explained to the king, you will tell him that, seeing on the one hand the conditions imposed by his Majesty respecting the privileges, which we do not intend to infringe, and on the other the dangers that might arise if the State were left without a lord until the time fixed for the promulgation of the privileges, and being further aware that the people of Milan set the example and draw after them all the rest of the State, we have chosen to accept the burden they offer us, and have ridden through the town in order to satisfy the wishes of the people. And this we have done, in order not to leave the State and city in doubt as to the last duke's successor, without taking either title or armorial bearings, lest we should incur the same blame as that illustrious lord our father. Thus, solely to prove that the State is not left without a lord, and at the same time not to infringe the conditions attached to the privileges, we have taken this name of duke, and will inscribe our name as Ludovicus Dux in letters and other documents, without specifying of what place we are duke, so as to observe the commands laid upon us by his Majesty not to publish the privileges before the feast of St. Martin. The full form which we intend to adopt at the said feast will be signified to him after this feast, when we shall adopt the style of Dux Mediolani in accordance with this command. But we will abstain from publishing the privileges until we have the approval of the said Majesty, which we hope to obtain as soon as the term which he fixed shall expire.

"And you will also tell his Majesty that the publication of these privileges carries with it the investiture and enjoyment of the temporal possessions of the duchy, and therefore, as our procurator, you will ask for this investiture with all respect and submission. And you will beg his Majesty to send us an ambassador to declare that he places us in possession of the duchy, in order that he may give the world an outward demonstration of the act that he has already done in private. This, we beg to assure his Majesty, shall ensure a perpetual obligation on our part and that of our posterity towards his Majesty, who may count on the fidelity of this State in all contingencies, most of all in the affairs of Italy, where no State can be greater or of more importance than this one, which has the same influence in Italy as he has in Germany. And since the form of investiture has been given this summer to the Treasurer of Burgundy, you can obtain it from him by means of Messer Erasmo, and we will afterwards send you the imperial mandate that you may arrange this. As to the form of delivery of the temporalities, we desire to follow that which was employed in the cases of former dukes, which we will seek out and let you have. To this effect you will negotiate with the Most Serene King of the Romans, making use of the advise of Messer Erasmo, in order to obtain this concession in the manner that we devise.

"You will also visit our niece, the Most Serene Queen, and condole in our name on the duke's death, which is a common cause of grief to both of us, and will recommend our affairs to her, begging her Majesty to assist you, and to employ great warmth and fervour in addressing the Most Serene Lord her husband.

"Milan, 22nd October, 1494."

These instructions were followed by a short letter from Lodovico, enclosing the petition to be presented to Maximilian, and urging him to lose no time in reaching his destination.

"MAPHEO,—We enclose the petition for the investiture, and have to-day sent you money and horses. There is nothing more to say, excepting to urge you once more to use all diligence to seek out His Serene Majesty, and with the help of Erasmo leave nothing undone that may induce him to grant the investiture without delay, and at the same time send back with you persons empowered to put me in possession of the temporal possessions of the duchy. Without these two things, all that has been done till now will be of no avail."

On the 21st, Lodovico sent an official intimation of his nephew's death, and of the "incredible grief" which this sad event had given him, to his relatives and allies. On the 22nd, he issued another circular, informing them in well-turned phrases of his election by the people of Milan, and of his consent to take up the burden imposed upon him by the will of his subjects. And on the same day the Mantuan envoy, Donato de' Preti, writing to Isabella d'Este, gave her the following version of affairs: "This morning a meeting was held in the Castello, at which Signor Lodovicus was proclaimed King of Milan in the presence of the gentlemen and councillors assembled in the Rocchetta, no one else being nominated. Few spoke, and very little was said, but Signor Lodovico was chosen by universal acclamation, or at least with no dissent. This afternoon he came out of the Rocca clad in gold brocade, and rode all round the town for the space of two hours, and the shops are closed, and all the bells of the city are to be rung for three days." At Pavia, where the Moro had made himself greatly beloved both by the citizens and the members of the university, there was great rejoicing when the people heard him publicly proclaimed duke to the sound of fifes and trumpets. "All the people of Pavia," wrote Count Borella, on the 23rd of October, "are filled with the utmost joy and delight, like the loyal and affectionate servants of your Highness that they are, and pray that you may live long to enjoy your exalted dignity."

On the evening of the 27th, the body of the late duke, after lying in state during several days before the high altar in the Duomo of Milan, "was buried in the vault of his ancestors with the greatest pomp and honour," as the Mantuan envoy told Isabella d'Este. "The Marchese Ermes, the Ferrarese ambassador, with the whole house of Visconti, and all the councillors, ministers, and court officials attending, robed in black. An immense concourse of people were present, together with priests and friars innumerable, and the blaze of lighted wax candles was so great in the church that I could see nothing. An eloquent and highly ornate sermon was preached by a Mantuan friar, named Giovanni Pietro Suardo."

And the next day his successor joined the French king in his camp under the walls of Sarzana. He had at length attained the object of his ambition, and was reigning on his father's throne.

"To sum up the whole matter," writes Commines, "Lodovico had himself proclaimed Lord of Milan, and that, as many people say, was the reason why he brought us over the mountains."

FOOTNOTES:

[53] Luzio-Renier, op. cit., p. 394.

[54] Guicciardini's "Italy," Fenton's English translation, vol. i. p. 34.



CHAPTER XXI

Lodovico joins Charles VIII. at Sarzana—Suspicious rumours as to the late duke's death—Piero de' Medici surrenders the six fortresses of Tuscany to Charles VIII.—Lodovico retires in disgust from the camp—Congratulations of all the Italian States on his accession—Grief of Duchess Isabella—Her return to Milan—Mission of Maffeo Pirovano to Antwerp—His interviews with Maximilian and Bianca—Letter of Lodovico to the Bishop of Brixen—Charles VIII. enters Rome—His treaty with Alexander VI. and departure for Naples.

1494

The short week which had elapsed between the king's departure from Pavia and the return of Lodovico to the French camp had effected a complete change in the situation. Suddenly the Moro found himself at the height of his ambition, elected duke by popular acclamation, and in actual possession of the throne, while he held in his hands the imperial diploma that was to give him a surer and safer title to the duchy than any of his race had possessed.

"All that this man does prospers, and all that he dreams of by night comes true by day," wrote the Venetian chronicler. "And, in truth, he is esteemed and revered throughout the world and is held to be the wisest and most successful man in Italy. And all men fear him, because fortune favours him in everything that he undertakes."

But already ugly rumours began to be whispered abroad. The unhappy duke, it was openly said at Florence and Venice, had, it was plain, died of poison, administered by his uncle. The moment of his death was so opportune, and fitted in so exactly with Lodovico's plans; the promptness with which the Moro had acted in seizing the crown which ought to have belonged to Giangaleazzo's son, helped to confirm the suspicions that were aroused in the minds of men whom the new duke's policy had inspired with distrust, and who looked with jealous eyes on the success of his diplomacy. The French king's doctor, Theodore Guainiero of Pavia, was quite sure he had detected signs of poisoning in the sick duke's face when he had been present at the interview between his royal master and poor Giangaleazzo at Pavia. Contemporary chroniclers, improving upon this remark, with one voice asserted that the doctor had found evident traces of poison on the body at a post-mortem examination held after the duke's death, ignoring the fact that at that moment Theodore Guainiero was with King Charles at Piacenza. So the legend grew, and found ready acceptance among both French and Italians, who alike hated the Moro with deadly hatred.

"And if the duke were dispatched by poison, there was none," wrote the Florentine historian, "that held that his uncle was innocent, and either directly or indirectly, as he, who not content with an absolute power, but aspiring, according to the common desires of great men, to make themselves glorious with titles and honours, and especially he judged that both for his proper heritage and the succession of his children, the death of the lawful duke was necessary, wherein ambition and covetousness prevailed above conscience and law of nature, and the jealous desire of dominion enforced his disposition, otherwise abhorring blood, to that vile action."

The careful examination of the various documents connected with Giangaleazzo's death has led recent historians to a different conclusion. "Nothing is further from the truth," writes Magenta, in his history of the "Castello di Pavia," "than that Giangaleazzo died of poison." And Delaborde, Porro, Cantu, as well as those able and learned scholars, Signor Luzio and Signor Renier, all endorse these statements, and ascribe the duke's death to natural causes. Even Paolo Giovio, who hated the Moro as the man who had betrayed his country to the French, owns that there is much reason for doubting the truth of the accusation brought against him in this instance. Charles VIII., it is plain, did not himself believe in Lodovico's guilt. When the news of Giangaleazzo's death reached him, he caused a solemn requiem mass to be held in the Duomo of Piacenza, and distributed liberal alms to the poor of the town in memory of his dead cousin. And Galeazzo di Sanseverino, who had remained in attendance upon the king, informed Lodovico, in one of his letters, that the only remark which His Most Christian Majesty had made on the subject was to express his sorrow for the duke's orphan children, and to say that he hoped Signor Lodovico would treat them as his own, to which Galeazzo replied that he might rest assured they would want for nothing. But the suspicion that the duke's end had been hastened by his uncle's act found general acceptance in the French army, and deepened the distrust with which Lodovico was already regarded. At this critical moment, the unexpected action of Piero de' Medici helped to bring about a breach between the Moro and his allies.

When, on the 31st of October, the new duke reached the French camp before the Tuscan castle of Sarzana, he found to his surprise that Piero de' Medici, who up to this time had been the staunchest ally of Naples, had arrived there the day before, to make his submission to King Charles. Sanuto relates how this craven son of the magnificent Lorenzo threw himself at the feet of the French monarch, and promised to accept whatever conditions he chose to impose. Not only did he agree to give the army of Charles free passage through Tuscany, and to dismiss the Florentine troops which he had levied, but he actually promised to surrender the six strongholds of Sarzana, Sarzanello, Pietra Santa, Librafratta, Leghorn, and Pisa. Thus, without a single blow, the city and state of Florence was placed at the mercy of the invaders. Even the French councillors who negotiated the terms of the treaty, were amazed at the readiness with which their demands were accepted, and told Commines afterwards that they marvelled to see Piero de' Medici settle so weighty a matter with so much lightness of heart, "mocking and jeering at his cowardice as they spoke." Lodovico, on his part, received the news of Piero's disgraceful concessions with ill-concealed disgust. Now that he had attained his own objects, and had nothing to fear from Alfonso, whose armies were in full retreat, he would willingly have seen the progress of the French delayed, and the king forced to winter in Tuscany, and was bitterly annoyed to find that the passes of the Apennines were in the hands of Charles, as well as the castles and ports which he had hoped to obtain for Milan as the price of his alliance. Guicciardini relates how he met Piero de' Medici that day in the camp, and how his old friend's son, anxious to ingratiate himself with the powerful duke, made excuses for not having given him an official welcome into Florentine territory, saying that he had ridden out to meet him, but had missed his way. "One of us certainly missed the way," replied the duke, with a bitter meaning under his courteous phrases; "perhaps it is you who have taken the wrong road."

But he hid his vexation as best he could, when he entered the French king's presence, and boldly asked Charles to give him the castles of Sarzana and Pietra Santa, which had formerly belonged to Genoa. When the king replied that he preferred to keep these forts in his own hands until his return from Naples, Lodovico once more disguised his feelings, and contented himself with asking for a renewal of the investiture of Genoa, formerly granted to his nephew, which he obtained on payment of 30,000 ducats. After this he saw no reason for remaining in the French camp any longer, and, pleading urgent State affairs, he left again for Milan on the 3rd of November.

"Et merveilleusement malcontent," says Commines, "se partit du Roy pour le reffuz."

Only the Count of Caiazzo, with a troop of fifty horse, remained in the French camp, while Galeazzo di Sanseverino and Duchess Beatrice's brother, Ferrante d'Este, were the sole Italians to be seen riding in the royal procession when Charles made his triumphal entry into Florence. "Many thought then," adds the Sieur d'Argenton, "that he wished the king out of Italy." A week later he recalled the Milanese troops from Romagna, saying that their presence was no longer needed. For the present, however, the new Duke of Milan took a strictly neutral line, and while he outwardly maintained friendly relations with France, at the same time received congratulatory messages on his accession from the Pope, the Doge and Signory of Venice, and his old enemy, Alfonso of Naples, who forgot all the grievances of the past in his dismay at the approach of the French invaders.

On the 6th of November Lodovico returned to Milan, and joined his wife at Vigevano, where Beatrice had remained during her husband's absence with her infant son. We have no letters to tell us what her feelings were at this eventful period, and do not learn if she joined her husband during the few days of his hurried visit to Milan in October. But we are glad to find that she expressed sympathy with the unhappy widow of Giangaleazzo, and showed real concern for her cousin's melancholy condition. After her husband's death, Isabella's courage and fortitude broke down under the long strain, and for some days she shut herself up in a dark room, and refused to take food, or accept any comfort. Four Milanese councillors waited upon her at Pavia to offer their condolences, and invited her to come to Milan in the name of the new duke and the people, assuring her that she and her children should be treated with due honour, and retain possession of the ducal residence in the Castello. This attention gratified her, and Paolo Bilia, an old and faithful servant, who had been long in her service, wrote by her desire to Lodovico on the 28th of October—

"My Lady is much pleased to hear that you have accepted the gift which she sent you, and is grateful for the kind messages which she has received from Your Illustrious Consort, as well as the offers which you have made her, and the addresses of the councillors. Under Niccolo da Cusano's treatment her health has certainly improved; and the children are very well, only the boy objects to the black clothes and hangings of the rooms."

A week later the Councillor Pusterla wrote that he visited the Duchess every day, and found her much rested, and already considerably calmer, and was charged to convey her warmest thanks to the duke for his kindness, and express her wish to show herself in all things his obedient daughter. But she still refused to leave Pavia, and shrank from seeing any one but her children and servants.

"The duchess," wrote Donato de Preti from Milan to his mistress Isabella d'Este, "has not yet arrived here, but is expected on Friday. All the rooms and furniture in the Castello are hung with black. To-day a man who came from Pavia is said to have brought word that Count Borella had been sent to ask the duchess for her son Francesco, but that she had refused to send him. This, however, may not be true, for the person who told me is not to be trusted."

On the 29th of November, the same informant wrote again—

"The widowed duchess has not yet come to Milan. It appears that she has asked leave to remain at Pavia until after her confinement, and this she will certainly do. I hear that she still mourns her dead lord."

Her mother-in-law, Duchess Bona, remained with her at Pavia, and here, on the first of December, she received a visit from Chiara Gonzaga, a sister of the Marquis of Mantua, and wife of Gilbert, Duke of Montpensier, who was captain-general of the French army. This princess, who was now on her way to Mantua, was sincerely attached to both Isabella and Beatrice d'Este, and proved a loyal friend to Lodovico at the French court, while after her husband's death he, in his turn, gave her the benefit of his powerful help in her efforts to obtain the recovery of her fortune from the French king. There seems, however, to have been no truth in the report that the widowed duchess was again with child, and on the 6th of December she finally summoned up courage to return to Milan. On her arrival she was received by Beatrice, and Barone, the jester, who was on the same familiar terms with the Marchioness of Mantua as he was with her sister, sent her the following pathetic account of their meeting—

"Last night the Duchess Isabella arrived in Milan, and our duchess went to meet her, two miles outside the town, and directly they met, our duchess got out of her chariot and entered that of Duchess Isabella, both of them weeping bitterly, and so they rode together towards the Castello, where the Duke of Milan met them on horseback at the gate of the garden. He took off his cap, and accompanied them to the Castello, where they all three alighted, and placing Duchess Isabella between them, our duke and duchess accompanied her to her old rooms. When they reached these rooms they sat down together, and the Duchess Isabella could do nothing but weep, until at last the duke spoke to her, and begged her to calm herself, and be comforted, with many other similar words. Dear friend, the hardest heart would have been melted with compassion at the sight of her, with her three children, looking so thin and altered by her grief, wearing a long black robe like a friar's habit, made of rough cloth, worth fourpence the yard, and her eyes hidden by a thick black veil. Certainly I, for one, could not help crying, and if I had not restrained myself, I should have wept still more."[55]

Until the death of Beatrice, Isabella of Aragon and her children occupied the rooms in the Castello where she and her husband had formerly resided, and spent the spring and summer in the Castello of Pavia, but the widowed duchess lived in complete retirement during the next two years, and her name seldom appears in contemporary records. Her mother-in-law Bona, retained her rooms until the following January, when the duke desired her to move to the old palace near the Duomo, known as the Corte Vecchia, partly because the use of her apartments was required by the court officials, and partly owing to the intrigues which she secretly practised. Only lately Lodovico's envoys at Antwerp had informed him of the bitter words which Bona wrote against him to her daughter Bianca, words which the empress's secretary thought it wiser to pass over when he read her mother's letters aloud, taking care, he adds, to see that they were burnt before they could do further mischief. A year afterwards, Bona left Milan for good and returned to France, where she lived at Amboise until the end of 1499, when she came back to her native land of Savoy, and died at Fossano on the 8th of January, 1504.

Meanwhile Maffeo Pirovano, after being delayed on his journey by violent storms and floods, and narrowly escaping with his life from the brigands and highwaymen who infested the streets of Cologne, had at length reached Antwerp and discharged his errand. In his letters to the duke, he gives an interesting account of his interview with the emperor, whose imposing presence and gracious kindness made a deep impression upon him.

"The Most Serene King has the noblest bodily presence as well as the greatest qualities of mind and soul, and as far as you can judge from outward signs, I should say that his Majesty's wisdom and loyalty are beyond dispute, and that there is no prince in the world whom he esteems more highly than your Excellency. And if I asked why all the king's dealings appear slow and tardy, I should say that this was caused by two obstacles, which neither of them proceed from his Majesty's own fault. The first is want of money, and the second the little confidence that he can place in his ministers."

Maffeo was able to give Lodovico satisfactory assurances as to Maximilian's readiness to confirm him in the investiture of Milan. He promised to send the letters forthwith, but desired the duke to allow no one but his brother Cardinal Ascanio to see a copy, and not to publish them before March. "He fears," wrote the Milanese envoy, "in the first place the electors of the Diet, and in the second the wrath of King Alfonso of Naples. But his Majesty promises to speak to the electors as soon as possible, and after that will have the privileges drawn up by the chancellor, and will send a solemn embassy to put the duke in possession of his dignities and the realm.

The young empress, who, Maffeo remarked, "is not very wise," was overjoyed to see an old friend, and had much to hear about her beloved Milanese home. She wrote an affectionate little note to her uncle, lamenting her poor brother's death and congratulating him on his accession, which she called "a due reward of all the benefits which we have received from your Excellency."[56]

And when Maffeo left Antwerp early in December to return to Milan, he received a whole string of commissions from her Majesty. He was, in the first place, to visit and condole with her mother, her widowed sister-in-law, and her brother Ermes, and to commend the Duchess Isabella and her children especially to the duke. Then he was to beg the duke and duchess to send her their latest portraits, as well as those of her mother, brother, sister-in-law, and her sister Madonna Anna, wife of Alfonso d'Este. There was a special message to Beatrice, begging her for some perfumes and powders, a ball of musk, and a bunch of heron's plumes. And there was another for Lodovico, asking him to try and procure a certain set of pearls from Bianca's half-sister, Caterina Sforza, the famous Madonna of Forli. Last of all, there was an earnest request that the duke would entreat her lord the Most Serene King to come to Italy, and write urgently to him on the subject, without, however, letting it appear that the suggestion had proceeded from Bianca herself.

In these communications between the empress and her family there is no trace whatever of any ill-will to Lodovico and Beatrice, far less any suspicion that her uncle had hastened her brother's death, although some chroniclers allude to a report that Maximilian's wife held Lodovico to be guilty of this crime. The fact that some rumour of this kind had reached the imperial court seems probable from the Latin letter which Lodovico himself addressed in December, 1494, to the Bishop of Brixen, one of the delegates who were afterwards sent to Milan with the imperial privilege. In this letter the Moro refutes the calumny which he hears had been brought against him in certain quarters, and points out that his nephew's death had been due to natural causes, that the late duke had been ill for many months, and that he had been assiduously attended by his devoted wife and the most skilful doctors, three of whom had known him from his cradle. He alludes to the visit paid to Giangaleazzo a few days before his death by His Most Christian Majesty, and explains that he himself was only prevented from being present at his nephew's death-bed by the necessity of attending on the French king. "Nothing," he adds, "could be more contrary to our nature than so great a crime." In conclusion, he dwells on the fatherly love which he had always shown his nephew, and renews his protestations of devotion to His Most Serene Majesty the King of the Romans. In point of fact, as both Maffeo and Brasca informed their master the subject which disquieted Maximilian at this moment far more than poor Giangaleazzo's death, was the rapid advance of the French king. A rumour had reached the German court that Charles aspired to the imperial title, and intended to make the Pope crown him in Rome. This report filled the emperor-elect with dismay, and he turned to the Milanese envoys with the words, "I know that the Duke of Milan has great power in Italy, and has proved his faith and good intentions towards myself, but I hope, since he is so wise in everything, that he will make some difference between me and the King of France."

Lodovico, however, needed no warning on this subject, and was as much alarmed as any of his neighbours at the extraordinary success which had attended Charles VIII.'s expedition. Florence and Siena both received him within their gates, and helped him with loans of money and supplies of corn. On the 4th of December he left Siena; by the 10th he was at Viterbo, within sixty miles of Rome, and sent the Pope word that he would spend Christmas in the Vatican and treat with him there. For a moment Alexander VI., encouraged by the arrival of the Duke of Calabria's army under the walls of the eternal city, put on a bold face and defied Charles to do his worst. The same day he arrested the cardinals Ascanio Sforza and Sanseverino at a consistory in the Vatican, upon which Galeazzo di Sanseverino, who was at Viterbo with the French king, rode all the way to Vigevano in three days, to take Lodovico the news of this insult to his family. The duke was furious, and vowed vengeance upon the Pope. But Alexander's courage soon failed him. In a few days his defiant mood gave place to one of abject terror, the two cardinals were released and sent to plead the Pope's cause with Charles VIII., and on the 30th of December Ferrante retired with his troops towards Naples. That same day the French king entered Rome by the Flaminian Gate, and rode in triumphal procession along the Corso with Cardinals Giuliano delle Rovere and Ascanio Sforza at his side, both of them, remarks Commines, great enemies of the Pope, and still greater enemies of one another. Alexander fled for shelter to the Castello Sant'Angelo, and Charles took up his abode in the palace of San Marco, from which he dictated terms of peace to the terrified pontiff. Already a rumour had reached Milan that the Pope was to be deposed, and that the French king intended to attempt a general reformation of the scandals that disgraced the Church.

"His Most Christian Majesty," remarked Lodovico, drily, "had better begin by reforming himself." And when the Venetian ambassador Sebastian Badoer and Benedetto Trevisano arrived at Vigevano to take counsel with the duke in this perilous state of affairs, he spoke very contemptuously of the king's person and character.

"The Most Christian King," he said, "is young and foolish, with little presence and still less mental power. When I was with him at Asti, treating of important matters, his councillors spent their time eating and playing cards in his presence. Sometimes he would dictate a letter by one man's advice, and then withdraw it at the suggestion of another. He is haughty and ill-mannered, and when we were together, he has more than once left me alone in the room like a beast, to go and dine with his friends."

And he proceeded to remind the Venetian envoys how he had sent his wife, Duchess Beatrice, to warn the Signoria of the critical state of affairs, and how his advice had been neglected, and nothing had been done.

"It is true," the duke added, "that I lent the king money, but at the same time I gave him good advice. 'Sire,' I said to him, 'drive out the tyrant Piero de' Medici, and give Florence her old liberties;' and when I refused to accompany him further, I desired Messer Galeaz to defend the freedom and rights of both Florence and Siena. You see how little the king has followed my advice and how cruel and insolent he has shown himself. These French are bad people, and we must not allow them to become our neighbours."

In reality, what disturbed the Duke of Milan far more than the success of Charles in the south, was the presence of Louis of Orleans with a body of troops at Asti. When Charles left Asti in October, his cousin was ill with an attack of fever, and had been compelled to remain behind. The close vicinity of this dangerous neighbour, and the boldness with which Orleans asserted his claim on Milan, led the Moro to use all his influence with Maximilian to induce him to join his old enemies, the Venetians, in a common league against the French. While these negotiations were being secretly carried on, the victorious French king had, on the 15th of January, signed a treaty with the Pope, by which the crown of Naples was bestowed upon him, and the chief fortresses of the Papal States were surrendered into his hands until his return. The next day Charles attended mass at St. Peter's, and met the Pope in the Vatican—"a very fine house," he wrote to his brother-in-law, the Duke of Bourbon, "as well furnished and adorned as any palace or castle I have ever seen."

On the 19th of January, he did homage to His Holiness before the College of Cardinals, as Vicar of Christ and successor of the Apostles, and was embraced and welcomed by the Pope in return as the eldest son of the Church. A week later he left Rome and set out at the head of his army on the march to Naples. And the same day he received the news that Alfonso of Aragon, seized with a fatal panic, had abdicated his crown in favour of his son Ferrante, and was on his way to Sicily.

FOOTNOTES:

[55] A Luzio-Renier, op. cit., p. 399.

[56] F. Calvi, op. cit.



CHAPTER XXII

Visit of Isabella d'Este to Milan—Birth of Beatrice's son, Francesco Sforza—Fetes and comedies at the Milanese court—Works of Leonardo and of Lorenzo di Pavia—Mission of Caradosso to Florence and Rome in search of antiques—Fall of Naples—Entry of King Charles VIII. and flight of Ferrante II.—Consternation in Milan—Departure of Isabella d'Este.

1495

While Charles VIII. was leading his victorious army against Naples, and striking terror into all hearts throughout the length and breadth of Italy, Duchess Beatrice Sforza, as the wife of Lodovico now styled herself, was joyfully expecting the birth of a second child. Once more great preparations were made in the Rocchetta for the happy event. On the 10th of December her sister Isabella sent her the size and pattern of a cradle which her father had given her before the birth of her little daughter, Leonora, the year before, excusing herself for not writing a longer letter because she was engaged with her sister-in-law, the Duchess of Montpensier. Duke Lodovico himself, immediately on his return to Vigevano in November, had written begging the Marchesa to come to Milan in January, and on the 15th she left Mantua. On the day after her arrival she paid a visit of condolence to the widowed duchess, whose sorrowful condition filled her with compassion.

"I found her in the large room," writes Isabella to her husband, on the 20th of January, "all hung with black, with only just light and air enough to save one from suffocation. Her Highness wore a cloth cloak, and a black veil on her head, and her deep mourning filled me with so much compassion that I could not keep back my tears. I condoled with her in your name and my own, and she gratefully accepted my sympathy, and sent for her children, the sight of whom increased my emotion."

On the 4th of February, Beatrice gave birth to a second son, a fine boy, who received no less than fifteen names, including those of Francesco Sforza, after his illustrious grandfather. As a child he was called Sforza, but became afterwards known as Francesco, under which name he reigned during the last years of his short life over the duchy of Milan. Isabella d'Este held the infant prince at the baptismal font, and remained at Milan till the end of the Carnival, at the urgent entreaty of her brother-in-law, who himself wrote to beg the marquis for permission to keep his wife a few weeks longer.

Alfonso d'Este and his wife, Anna Sforza, always a favourite at the court of Milan, now joined the ducal party, and took part in the brilliant series of festivities which celebrated Beatrice's recovery and the christening of the infant prince.

"Every third day," wrote Isabella to an absent Milanese friend of hers, Anton Maria de' Collis, "we have triumphal and magnificent festivities, one of which lasted till two in the morning, another was not over till four o'clock. We spend the intervening days in riding and driving in the park or else through the streets of Milan, which has been made so beautiful that if you were to come back here to-day, you would no longer know the place."

In another letter Isabella describes a splendid festa at the house of Messer Niccolo da Correggio, at which a representation of the fable of Hippolyte and Theseus, as told in the "Innamoramento di Orlando" was beautifully given. And in answer to a letter from her brother-in-law, Giovanni Gonzaga, telling her of an allegorical representation in which the famous Serafino of Aquila had taken part, she writes—

"Here too we are enjoying feasts and pleasures of every description, which afford us the greatest possible delight, and I hope to tell you many things that will excite your Highness's envy. For this is the school of the master of those who know."[57]

Such phrases as these were no small praise on the lips of so accomplished and critical a woman as Isabella d'Este. Another contemporary, the Florentine Guicciardini, who visited the capital of Lombardy, was filled with amazement at the sight, and describes Milan during Lodovico's reign as famous for the wealth of its citizens; the infinite number of its shops; the abundance and delicacy of all things pertaining to human life; the superb pomp and sumptuous ornaments of its inhabitants, both men and women; the skill and talent of its artists, mechanics, embroiderers, goldsmiths, and armourers; and the innumerable quantity of new and stately buildings which adorn its streets. "Not only," he adds, "is the city full of joy and pleasure, of feasting and delight, but so wonderfully is it increased in riches, magnificence, and glory, that it may certainly be called the most flourishing and happiest of all the cities in Italy."

The stranger from Florence and Venice might well admire the duke's knowledge and taste, and wonder at the splendid results which his enlightened patronage of art and learning had produced. For they saw his great city of Milan as it has never been seen again, before the savage invader had spoiled its charm and defaced its loveliness; when Bramante's churches and porticoes rose in perfect symmetry against the sky, and the glowing tints of Leonardo's frescoes were yet fresh upon the walls. They saw the Ruga bella, or Beautiful Way, with its long line of palaces on either side, its painted walls and richly carved portals. They saw the lovely cupola of S. Maria delle Grazie, and the marble cloisters of S. Ambrogio, and the graceful Baptistery of S. Satiro, which Caradosso had lately adorned with his elegant frieze of cherubs and medallions. They saw the stately arcades of the Spedale Grande, and the deep-red brick and terra-cotta pile of the vast Lazzaretto, and the wide streets and piazzas which the duke had laid out "to give the people more light and air." Above all, they saw the great Castello which was the pride of Lodovico's court. These vaulted ceilings and painted halls, these beautiful gardens with their temples and labyrinths, their fountains and statues, these splendid stables with columned aisles and walls adorned with frescoes of horses, which the French invaders admired more than anything else in Milan, were well-nigh complete. But still Lodovico was always planning some new improvements to add to the charm and pleasantness of the ducal residence. Isabella's friend Leonardo, we know from one of the duke's letters, was engaged at this moment in painting the vaults of the newly built Camerini, while he was still putting the last touches to the famous equestrian statue which the Marchesa now saw for the first time, and which the duke promised should be soon cast in bronze. But the great master's thoughts were taking a new direction, and he was already preparing designs for the mural painting of the Cenacolo, with which Lodovico had ordered him to decorate the refectory of the Dominicans in his favourite convent of S. Maria della Grazie. It was a work after Leonardo's own heart, and he determined to frame an altogether new and original composition, a Last Supper which should be unlike all others in Italy. This time at least the duke's fastidious taste should be satisfied, and the Lombards should be made to own that Leonardo the Florentine was an artist who had no equal.

Another of Isabella's favourite artists, Maestro Lorenzo, the gifted organ-maker, was absent from court, and had left his old home at Pavia to take up his abode at Venice near his friend Aldo Manuzio, the printer. But during this visit the Marchesa saw "the beautiful and perfect clavichord" which he had made for Beatrice, and vowed to leave no stone unturned until she had obtained a similar one. Unfortunately, when she wrote to inform Messer Lorenzo of her wishes, he was engaged in making a viol for the Duchess of Milan, and had also promised Messer Antonio Visconti a clavichord, so that he was unable to satisfy the impatient Marchesa as quickly as she would have liked. Nothing daunted, however, Isabella returned to the charge, and addressed a letter in her sweetest and most persuasive strain to Count Antonio Visconti, begging him, since her desires were so ardent and she had already waited so long, of his courtesy to allow Messer Lorenzo to begin her clavichord as soon as Duchess Beatrice's viol should be finished. The count naturally enough was unable to refuse the request of so charming a princess, and as usual Isabella got her own way. On Christmas Day, 1496, she wrote joyously to tell her Venetian agent, Brognolo, that Messer Lorenzo had just arrived at Mantua, bringing the precious clavichord, which was as beautiful and perfect as it could possibly be. But the saddest part of the story has yet to be told. After the death of Beatrice, and Lodovico's final ruin, Isabella d'Este remembered the matchless organ which Lorenzo de Pavia had made for her sister, and wrote immediately to the Pallavicini brothers who had joined in the betrayal of the Castello, begging them, if possible, to let her have the instrument. A considerable time elapsed before her wish was gratified, but in the end her perseverance triumphed over all difficulties, and on the last day of July, 1501, she wrote to tell Messer Lorenzo that the beautiful clavichord which he had made for the Duchess of Milan had been given her by Galeazzo Pallavicino, the husband of Niccolo da Correggio's half-sister, Elizabeth Sforza, and would be doubly precious to her as his work and because of its rare excellence.[58] By a strange fate, the fragments of this precious clavichord, which was so highly esteemed in its day, have of late years found their way to the ancient palace of the dukes of Ferrara in Venice. The instrument which the gifted Pavian made for Beatrice, inscribed with the Greek and Latin mottoes chosen by Lorenzo, may still be seen under the roof of her father's old house, in those halls where the young duchess once spent that joyous May-time long ago.

Another incident which took place at Milan during Isabella's visit, and could not fail to inspire her with the keenest interest, was the arrival of a marble Leda and a number of other antiques that were sent to the duke from Rome, by the goldsmith Caradosso. After the flight of Piero de' Medici and the revolution which had taken place in Florence, Lodovico sent this well-known connoisseur to try and acquire some of the priceless marbles or gems from the Magnificent Lorenzo's collection. But the Florentine magistrates wisely declined to part from these objects of art, which were now the property of the nation, and after Christmas Caradosso went on to Rome. He arrived there to find the French army in possession of the city and everything in the greatest confusion, but in the end succeeded in securing several valuable antiques. The cardinals, to whom Caradosso obtained introductions through Ascanio Sforza, were glad to ingratiate themselves with the powerful Duke of Milan at this critical moment, and the artist was able to inform his master that Cardinal di Monreale had given him a marble Leda—a really good antique, though some limbs of it were missing—and that other prelates had made him liberal offers.

"The Cardinal of Parma asked me yesterday what brought me to Rome. I told him I had come, by your Excellency's desire, to see if I could find any beautiful works in bronze or marble that were to be had for gold. Monsignore asked me if you really cared for these things. I replied, 'Yes, undoubtedly.' Upon which the Most Reverend informed me that he had an antique statue, and begged me to come and see if I thought that you would like it, as if so, he should be glad to send it as a present to your Excellency. I have seen it, and it is decidedly good.... Monsignore di Sanseverino has promised to show me some fine things, and I hear that Monsignore Colonna and the Cardinal of Siena have also some good things, but, unluckily, they are both of them away from Rome. Since I am here I must do my best to play the rogue. I hope to have enough to load a bark shortly, and send statues to Genoa and to Milan. Meanwhile I should be glad if you would write and thank the Cardinal of Parma for his statue, because it may induce him to send you some more fine works of art, and your gratitude may lead others, who are anxious to gain your Excellency's favour, to follow his example and send you some more beautiful objects, so that the world may become aware how far you surpass all other princes both in magnanimity and in the delight which you take in this most laudable pursuit. On my return to Florence, I will make another effort to obtain some of the precious objects which I saw there, and perhaps this time affairs may be in better order, and I may be more successful in obeying the orders of your Excellency, to whom I commend myself.

"Your servant, CARADOSSO DE MUNDO.

Roma, February, 1495."

No one sympathized more truly with Lodovico's passion for collecting antiques, or appreciated the treasures of art which he had brought together in the Castello, more fully than Isabella d'Este. As before, this brilliant princess charmed all hearts at Milan. When she asked a favour, whether it was of Count Pallavicino or Madonna Cecilia, of Messer Lorenzo or Gian Bellini, no one could refuse her prayer. When she received the Venetian ambassadors, the grace and gallantry of her bearing were irresistible. Whatever she did was done well. Her high spirits never failed, her strength never seemed to tire. She could ride all day and dance all night. She could answer Gaspare Visconti's verses in impromptu rhymes, and keep up animated literary controversies with Niccolo da Correggio and Messer Galeaz, or discuss grave political questions with the duke in the wisest and most sagacious manner. "As usual," wrote her secretary Capilupi, "Madonna's gracious ways and lively conversation have charmed every one here, most of all the Signor Duca, who calls her his dear daughter, and always makes her dine with him."

If Lodovico took pleasure in Isabella's company, Beatrice's warm heart glowed with tender affection for the sister whose presence recalled her dead mother and the home of her youth, while Isabella's love for children could not resist the advances of her little nephew Ercole, who followed his aunt about the rooms of the Castello and made her laugh till the tears ran down her cheeks. But the happy peace of these days was destined to be rudely disturbed. Suddenly, on the last day of the month, news reached Milan that the King of France had entered Naples and been crowned King of the Sicilies in the cathedral on the 22nd of February. The young king Ferrante had fled to Ischia with the rest of the royal family, and throughout his dominions the people flocked out along the roads to hail the victor's coming, and welcomed him with shouts of joy. Great was the consternation at the Milanese court that evening, and Isabella wrote to her husband—

"So complete and sudden a downfall appears almost impossible both to this illustrious lord, the duke, and to us all. It would indeed have been impossible were it not a Divine judgment. This sad case must be an example to all the kings and powers of the world, and will, I hope, teach them to value the love of their subjects more than all their fortresses, treasures, and men-at-arms, for, as we see now, the discontent of the people is more dangerous to a monarch than all the might of his enemies on the battle-field."

The bad news threw a gloom over the gay party in the Castello. All the pleasure and feasting of the Carnival, all the mirth of the dancing and feasting, died away. Isabella and Beatrice thought sadly of their cousin Ferrante, the chivalrous young prince who was a favourite with all his kinsfolk, and his sister, the widowed Duchess Isabella, shed bitter tears over this fresh sorrow. Even comedies and pageants lost their old gaiety and became dull and tedious. "To me this Carnival seems a thousand years long," sighed Isabella d'Este, in a letter to her husband, deploring her prolonged absence and complaining that the duke would not allow her to leave before a certain day, fixed by his astrologer. By the middle of March, however, she returned to Mantua, followed by the most sincere regrets and liveliest expressions of affection on the part of both her sister and brother-in-law.

"In all her actions," wrote Lodovico to the Marquis of Mantua, "this worthy Madonna has shown so much charm and excellence, that, although we rejoice to think you will soon enjoy her presence, we cannot but feel great regret at the loss of her sweet company, and when she leaves us to-morrow, I must confess we shall seem to be deprived of a part of ourselves."

And a week later Beatrice wrote to her sister, "I cannot tell you often enough how strange and sad the departure of your Highness has seemed to me this time. Wherever I turn, in the house or out-of-doors, I seem to see your face before my eyes, and when I find myself deceived, and realize that you are really gone, you will understand how sore my distress has been—nay, how great it still is. And you, I think, will have felt the same grief, because of the love between us. Even little Ercole misses you, and keeps on asking continually in his childish fashion for his aunt, and crying 'Cia, cia!' and he seems quite lost when he cannot find you anywhere."[59]

Beatrice's strange and sad forebodings were destined to prove all too true. That was Isabella's last visit to her brother-in-law's court, and the sisters never met again. When, thirteen years afterwards, the Marchesa returned once more to Milan and danced in the halls of the Castello, she came as the guest of Louis XII., the king who had conquered Lodovico's fair duchy and brought about the ruin of the house of Sforza. Beatrice had long been dead, her children were in exile, and the Moro was wearing his heart out in lonely captivity within the gloomy prison walls of Loches.

FOOTNOTES:

[57] Luzio-Renier, op. cit., p. 622.

[58] C. dell'Acqua, Lorenzo Gusnasco, pp. 19, 20.

[59] Luzio-Renier, op. cit., pp. 622, 623.



CHAPTER XXIII

Proclamation of the new league against France at Venice—Charles VIII. at Naples—Demoralization of the victors—Charles leaves Naples and returns to Rome—The Duke of Orleans refuses to give up Asti—Arrival of the imperial ambassadors at Milan—Lodovico presented with the ducal insignia—Fetes in the Castello—The Duke of Orleans seizes Novara—Terror of Lodovico—Battle of Fornovo—Victory claimed by both parties—The French reach Asti—Isabella's trophies restored by Beatrice.

1495

On the evening of the 27th of February, while the joy bells were ringing in the Milanese churches in honour of the French king's triumph, the duke sent for the Venetian ambassadors.

"I have had bad news," he said. "Naples is lost, and the French king has been joyfully welcomed by the people. I am ready to do whatever the Republic desires. But there is no time to waste; we must act at once."

All eyes now turned to Lodovico as the only man who could save Italy from the French invaders. The emperor and the Venetians had been urging him to declare war against France for the last eight weeks, and now Ferrante of Aragon, in his despair, appealed to him by the Sforza blood that flowed in both their veins to deliver him and his kingdom from the dominion of the foreigner. The duke himself could not feel safe as long as Louis of Orleans remained at Asti, and declared that he was ready to place himself at the head of a league for the defence of Italy. He wrote to congratulate Commines, the French ambassador at Venice, on his master's success, but the same day he sent the Bishop of Como and Francesco Bernardino Visconti to Venice, there to negotiate a new league between himself, the Signoria, the Pope, the King of the Romans, and the King and Queen of Spain. The presence of the German and Spanish ambassadors, as well as the arrival of the two new Milanese envoys, excited Commines' suspicions, while the long faces and terror-struck air of the Venetian senators, when the news from Naples arrived, reminded him of the Romans after the defeat of Cannae. But so well was the secret kept that he knew nothing of the league until after it had been signed, late on the night of the 31st of March, in the bedchamber of the old Doge. Early the next morning he was summoned to the palace, and, in the presence of a hundred senators, solemnly informed of the new treaty.

"Magnificent ambassador," said the prince, "our friendship for your master makes it our duty to inform you of all that concerns the state. Know, then, that yesterday, in the name of the Holy Spirit, of the glorious Virgin Mary, and the blessed Evangelist Monsignore S. Marco, our patron, a league has been concluded for the protection of the Church and the defence of the Holy Roman Empire and your own states, between his Holiness the Pope, his Majesty the King of the Romans, the King and Queen of Spain, our Signoria, and the Duke of Milan. Tell this, we pray you, to your Most Christian Majesty." Before the prince had done speaking, Commines heard the bells of St. Mark's ringing to celebrate the new league, and, still dazed by the unexpected news, he stammered out, "What will happen to my king? Will he be able to return to France?"

"Certainly," replied the prince, "if he comes as a friend to the league."

Without another word, Commines left the palace, but as he went down the grand staircase, he asked the secretary who accompanied him to repeat the Doge's words, since he could hardly take them in. Then he told his gondoliers to row him back to his house, near S. Giorgio Maggiore, and on the way he met the ambassador of Naples, in a fine new robe, with a smiling face, as he well might have, "for this," adds Commines, "was great news for him." Marino Sanuto, who narrates the incident, was much struck by Commines' rage and dismay, and, like a true Venetian, remarks contemptuously, "He did not know how to dissimulate his feelings, as one should do in such a case." And, in the same spirit, he goes on to admire the presence of mind displayed by the Milanese ambassadors, who to all Commines' remonstrances replied courteously, that of course their duke had nothing to do with all this. "They acted," he adds, "as the wise act in the government of states. They persuade their enemies that they mean to do one thing, and then they do another."

At night all Venice was illuminated, and from his covered gondola the French ambassador saw the fireworks and the banquetings that were held at the palaces of the other envoys. He understood what it all meant, and trembled for his king's safety. But he lost no time, and sent warnings both to Orleans at Asti and to Charles at Naples, of the coming storm. A week or two later he left Venice, and went to meet Charles at Florence. On Palm Sunday, the 10th of April, the League was solemnly proclaimed on the Piazza of St. Mark, and all the ambassadors marched in procession round the square, while images of united Italy, and of all the kings and princes of the League, were carried about in triumph, and the golden rose was given by the Pope to the Venetian ambassador in Rome. "To-day," said the Duke of Milan, "will see the dawn of the peace and prosperity of Italy."

King Charles, meanwhile, unconscious of the dangers that threatened to impede his return home, was revelling in the delights of Naples, and holding jousts and banquets in the sunny gardens and fair palaces of that enchanted bay. "My brother," he wrote to the Duke of Bourbon, "this is the divinest land and the fairest city that I have ever seen. You would never believe what beautiful gardens I have here. So delicious are they, and so full of rare and lovely flowers and fruits, that nothing, by my faith, is wanting, except Adam and Eve, to make this place another Eden."

While the king and his nobles were eating off gold and silver plate and drinking out of jewelled goblets in King Alfonso's tapestried halls, the French soldiers were to be seen lying about in the streets, intoxicated with the strong and luscious wines of Southern Italy. The whole army was given over to luxury and vice, and the outrages which the troops committed soon made them hated by the fickle populace, who a few weeks before had welcomed them as deliverers from the tyrant's yoke. "From the moment of the king's arrival until his departure," writes Commines, "he thought of nothing but pleasure, and those about him only cared to seek their own profit. His youth may excuse him, but for his servants there could be no excuse." The news of the league between the powers came to startle Charles out of this fool's paradise. On the 8th of April, the Count of Caiazzo was suddenly recalled to Milan, and when Charles asked Lodovico to send him Messer Galeazzo instead, the duke replied curtly that he had need of him at home. By degrees the king began to realize the formidable combination which had arisen against him, and prepared to march northward with the bulk of his army, leaving the Duke of Montpensier with a few hundred French troops and some thousand Swiss mercenaries to defend his newly conquered kingdom. On the 20th of May, he finally left Naples, and on the 1st of June entered Rome by the Latin gate, two days after the Pope had fled to Orvieto. Almost at the same moment, King Ferrante returned to Calabria, and his subjects flocked to join the old banner of the house of Aragon.

Lodovico's first step was to send Galeazzo di Sanseverino with a body of newly raised troops against Asti, on the 19th of April, and to summon the Duke of Orleans to surrender the town and to drop the title of Duke of Milan. In this he was supported by the Emperor Maximilian, who sent an imperious order to Louis forbidding him to assume the title, on pain of forfeiting his fief of Asti. Orleans replied proudly that Asti formed part of his heritage, and that he was ready to defend it to the last drop of his blood against Signor Lodovico or any other foe. At the same time he sent an urgent appeal to the Duke of Bourbon for reinforcements, and prepared to act on the offensive.

On the 14th of the same month, the Duke of Milan wrote a gay letter to Isabella d'Este, informing her of his intention to attack Asti, and regretting that she was not present to join the expedition on her fleet charger. But Asti was too strongly fortified, and the forces under Galeazzo were too raw and ill paid, for him to attempt an assault; so he remained in his camp at Annona, and contented himself with cutting off the supplies of the beleaguered city.

Towards the end of April, the imperial envoys were at length despatched with the long-promised privileges, and in the middle of May they reached Milan, where they were magnificently entertained by the duke and duchess in the Castello. On the 26th of May, the festival of S. Felicissimo, the great ceremony took place. An imposing tribunal, hung with crimson satin embroidered with gold mulberry leaves and berries, was erected for the occasion on the piazza at the doors of the Duomo, and here, after attending high mass, Lodovico Sforza was solemnly proclaimed Duke of Milan, Count of Pavia and Angera, by the grace of God and the will of his Cesarean Majesty, Maximilian, Emperor-elect and chief of the Holy Roman Empire. The imperial delegates, Melchior, Bishop of Brixen, and Conrad Sturzl, Chancellor of the King of the Romans, first read aloud the privileges in their master's name, and then invested Lodovico with the ducal cap and mantle, and placed the sceptre and sword of state in his hands. Giasone del Maino, the celebrated Pavian jurist, recited a Latin oration, after which the duke, accompanied by the imperial ambassadors, and followed by the duchess and a brilliant suite of courtiers and ladies, rode in procession to the ancient basilica of S. Ambrogio to return thanks for his accession. Then the whole company returned, "with immense rejoicing and triumph," to the Castello, where a series of splendid fetes were given in honour of the occasion, and rich presents were made to the imperial ambassadors and court officials. Two days afterwards another imposing ceremony was held in the Castello, when the heads of houses from the different quarters of the city were assembled, and each citizen in turn swore fealty, first to Duke Lodovico and afterwards to Duchess Beatrice, whom, in the event of his own death, he had appointed to be regent of the State and guardian of his sons. The Marquis of Mantua was among the guests present, and Beatrice felt the keenest regret that the marchioness was unable to accompany him and witness the wonderful scene before the Duomo, which, she exclaims in her youthful enthusiasm," was the grandest spectacle and noblest solemnity that our eyes have ever beheld."

It was the proudest day of Lodovico's life, and his adored wife, who shared the cares of State as well as the festivities of his court, might well join in his exultation. But his confidence in the favours of Fortune and in the security of his position was destined to receive a rude shock. Before the week was ended, on the very day when Beatrice wrote her triumphant letter to her sister, Louis of Orleans, strengthened by the arrival of fresh troops, made a successful sally from Asti at nightfall and appeared before the walls of Novara. The citizens, who were already disaffected by reason of the oppressive exactions of the Duke of Milan, opened their gates, and after a short siege the citadel surrendered. Suddenly the Duke of Milan, who was resting after the fatigues of the recent festivities at Vigevano, heard that his rival, at the head of a strongly armed force, was within twenty miles of his palace gates. An irresistible panic seized him, and he retired, first to Abbiategrasso, beyond the Ticino, and then to Milan, where he took refuge in the Castello with his wife and children. The Venetian annalist Malipiero records how, on the 20th of June, two Lombard friars arrived at the convent of San Salvador in Venice, bringing word that the duke had fled in terror of his life to the Rocca, and would hardly see or speak to a single soul. "He is in bad health, with one hand paralyzed, they say, and is hated by all the people, and fears they will rise against him." In this critical moment, Beatrice showed a courage and presence of mind which contrasted curiously with her husband's weakness. She sent for the chief Milanese noblemen, spoke brave words to them, and took prompt measures for defending the Castello and city. Fortunately, the Venetian general, Bernardo Contarini, arrived on the 22nd of June at the head of several thousand Greek Stradiots to the duke's assistance, while the French were held in check by Galeazzo's force and compelled to remain within the walls of Novara. This momentary panic over, Lodovico recovered his health and nerve, but his treasury was exhausted by the large subsidies granted to his allies and the extravagant expenditure of the last two years, and the forced loans which he exacted from his subjects created a general feeling of discontent. Galeazzo's force was weakened by continual desertion, and the duke had great difficulty in raising sufficient money to maintain two separate armies. Rumours of the disaffection of the Milanese and of the perils which threatened his ally had reached Maximilian's ears at Worms, and on the 18th of June he sent Lodovico a grave warning by his envoy, Angelo Talenti, begging the duke to place German troops in the fortress of Lombardy, and to provide guards for the castles of Milan and Como, "in order that he may be able to sleep in peace." Two days later he spoke again to the envoy, and begged him to urge the duke to remove his womankind from the Castello to Cremona, where he heard that he had a fine palace, saying that the presence of women had often caused the loss of citadels. Perhaps, if Maximilian had known Duchess Beatrice as well as he did a year later, he would have thought this warning superfluous. Lodovico, however, thanked his Majesty for his thoughtfulness, and applied himself, with the help of Leonardo, to fortify the Castello of Milan and make it an impregnable citadel. That winter he had appointed Bernardino del Corte, one of his favourite and most devoted servants, to be governor of the Rocca, which held his treasure and jewels together with all his most precious possessions, and on the 12th of January, a fortnight before the birth of Beatrice's child, the new castellan had taken a solemn oath of fealty to the duke and duchess, swearing, with his hand on the crucifix, that he would hold the Castello for his liege lord and lady till his latest breath. Messer Galeazzo and his brother, Antonio Maria di Sanseverino, Giasone del Maino, Ambrogio di Rosate, the astrologer, Galeotto Prince of Mirandola, and Giovanni Adorno, a powerful Genoese nobleman, who had married a sister of the Sanseverini brothers, were all present in Beatrice's room in the Rocchetta on this occasion, and signed the document as witnesses of Bernardino's oath.

Maximilian now sent his long-promised contingent of Swiss and German troops to join the Count of Caiazzo's horse, and the Venetian army, under the generalship of Gian Francesco Gonzaga, and the allied forces, amounting in all to some twenty-five thousand men, prepared to cut off the retreat of the French king and prevent his return to Asti. "Here I am," wrote the Marquis of Mantua to his wife, "at the head of the finest army which Italy has ever seen, not only to resist, but to exterminate the French." And Isabella wrote back in high spirits at the "great enterprise" that was before him, sending him a cross with an Agnus Dei to wear round his neck in battle, and telling him that her prayers and those of all the priests of Mantua were with him.

On Sunday, the 5th of July, the French army, reduced by sickness and desertion to less than ten thousand in number, and fatigued by long forced marches across the Apennines, descended into the valley of the Taro, and encamped at the village of Fornovo, on the right bank of the mountain torrent. Further along the same bank, down in the plains, lay the army of the league, and, in order to reach Lombardy, the French had to cross the river in full view of the enemy's camp. Early on Monday morning, the 6th of July, Charles, mounted on his favourite charger, "Savoy," and wearing white and purple plumes in his cap, led the van of his army across the Taro, swollen as it was by the late heavy rains. At the same moment, the Marquis of Mantua and the Count of Caiazzo, at the head of their light cavalry, attacked the French rear-guard, and the battle began. Paolo Giovio describes the engagement that followed as the fiercest battle of the age, in which more blood was spilt than in any other during the last two hundred years, although Commines, who was present with his monarch, says that the actual fighting only lasted a quarter of an hour. On both sides the leaders fought with heroic courage. Charles VIII. himself repeatedly led the charge against the Milanese horse, and, calling on the chivalry of France to live or die with him, dashed into the thickest of the fray. Once mounted on his war-horse, and face to face with the foe, the ugly little deformed man became a true king, and risked his life and liberty at the head of his subjects. Francesco Gonzaga, on his part, performed prodigies of valour, and had three horses killed under him, while his uncle, Rodolfo Gonzaga, and many other gallant knights were left dead on the field. But personal exploits could not atone for his want of generalship, and while the marquis and his immediate followers were engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand fight with the foe, a large body of his reserve remained inactive on the banks of the Taro, and his Stradiots were engaged in plundering the French camp. The result was that, in spite of their superior numbers, the Italian ranks were broken and many of the Venetians fled in confusion towards Parma, while the French succeeded in crossing the river, and, early on Tuesday morning, continued their march across the Lombard plain. But, as the camp and baggage remained in the hands of the allies, the Italians claimed the victory. The Venetians celebrated their triumph with public rejoicings and illuminations on the Piazza of S. Marco, and lauded their brave captain to the skies. Both at Milan and Mantua there was great exultation when the news became known; poets and painters alike did honour to the victors: Sperandio designed his noble medal, and Mantegna painted the Madonna della Vittoria to immortalize Francesco Gonzaga's triumph. But the marquis himself, writing to his wife from the camp the day after the battle, remarks that if only others had fought as he and his followers did, the victory would have been complete, and laments the disobedience and cowardice of the Stradiots, who first plundered the enemy's camp and then fled, although no one pursued them. "These things," he adds, "have caused me the greatest grief that I have ever known."

Lodovico's congratulations on the victory were coldly worded, and evoked a reply from his brother-in-law, saying that if he had foiled in courage, he would have been a dead man. But the duke could not forgive Gonzaga for allowing the French to pursue their way unmolested. Only the Count of Caiazzo and his brothers had attempted to follow them with their light cavalry, who were too few in number to do the enemy serious damage, and by the 8th of July, Charles and his tired army reached Asti in safety.

"God Himself was our guide," devoutly ejaculates Commines, "and led us home with honour, as that good man Fra Girolamo of Florence had foretold. But, as he said truly, we were made to suffer for our sins, for we were in sore need of food, and so great was our want of water that men drank of the ditches along the road; but no one was heard to complain, although it was the hardest journey I ever took in my life, and I have had many bad ones."

Among the booty which fell into the hands of the marquis after the battle was the French king's tent with all its contents. These included a sword and helmet, said to have belonged to Charlemagne, a silver casket containing the royal seals, besides a set of rich hangings and altar-plate, and a jewelled cross and reliquary on which Charles set great value, because it held a sacred thorn and piece of wood from the holy cross, a vest of our Lady, and a limb of St. Denis, which were objects of his especial devotion. Many of these relics were eventually restored to the king, who, not to be outdone in courtesy, sent the marquis a favourite white horse of his, which had been captured by the French, gorgeously apparelled in gold trappings. Among the spoils sent to Mantua were a magnificent set of embroidered hangings from the royal tent, and a curious book of paintings, containing portraits of the chief Italian beauties who had fascinated King Charles. These, together with the hilt of the broken sword with which the marquis himself had fought in the melee, were joyfully received by Isabella, who counted these trophies among her proudest possessions. She was, accordingly, a good deal annoyed when, a week later, her husband desired her to send back the French king's hangings, as he wished to give them to her sister Beatrice. Her protest on this occasion is very characteristic.

"MOST ILLUSTRIOUS LORD,

"Your Excellency has desired me to send the four pieces of drapery that belonged to the French king, in order that you may present them to the Duchess of Milan. I of course obey you, but in this instance I must say I do it with great reluctance, as I think these royal spoils ought to remain in our family, in perpetual memory of your glorious deeds, of which we have no other record here. By giving them to others, you appear to surrender the honour of the enterprise with these trophies of the victory. I do not send them to-day, because they require a mule, and I also hope that you will be able to make some excuse to the duchess and tell her, for instance, that you have already given me these hangings. If I had not seen them already, I should not have cared so much; but since you gave them to me in the first place, and they were won at the peril of your own life, I shall only give them up with tears in my eyes. All the same, as I said before, I will obey your Excellency, but shall hope to receive some explanation in reply. If these draperies were a thousand times more valuable than they are, and had been acquired in any other way, I should gladly give them up to my sister the duchess, whom, as you know, I love and honour with all my heart. But, under the circumstances, I must own it is very hard for me to part with them.

"Mantua, July 24, 1495."

In this case Beatrice showed herself, as she habitually was, the more generous of the two. The marquis had his way, and sent the four hangings to Milan, followed by a fifth belonging to the suite, which he had in the mean time recovered.

On the 25th of August, Beatrice, having duly received and admired her brother-in-law's gift, sent them all back to Mantua, with the following note, thanking him for his kindness, but declining to accept a present that she felt belonged of right to her sister:—

"I have to-day received, by your Highness's courier, one of the pieces of drapery belonging to the King of France. Andrea Cossa had already brought me the other four, for which I thank you exceedingly; but I feel that, under the circumstances, I ought not to keep them. As it is, I have great pleasure in seeing them all together, and now your Highness can give them back to the Marchesana."[60]

FOOTNOTES:

[60] Luzio-Renier, op. cit., pp. 632, 633.



CHAPTER XXIV

Ferrante II. recovers Naples—Siege of Novara by the army of the league —Review of the army by the Duke and Duchess of Milan—Charles VIII. visits Turin and comes to Vercelli—Negotiations for peace—Lodovic and Beatrice at the camp—Treaty of Vercelli concluded between France and Milan—Jealousy of the other Powers—Commines at Vigevano—Zenale's altar-piece in the Brera.

1495

If the failure of the league to cut off the French king's return to Fornovo had disappointed Lodovico, he found compensation in the news that reached Milan from Naples. Hardly had Charles VIII. started on his march northwards, than Ferrante once more set foot in his own realm and received a joyful welcome from his subjects. On the 7th of July, the day after the battle of the Taro, he entered Naples, where the people took up arms in his favour, and the nobles who had been the first to join the French king hastened to assure him of their loyalty. One by one the castles in the neighbourhood surrendered to their rightful king, and Montpensier with the remnant of his forces retired into the Calabrian fastnesses, to carry on a petty war of depredation and skirmishes during the winter months. Lodovico hastened to impart the good news to his sister-in-law Isabella, who replied in the following letter:—

"MOST ILLUSTRIOUS DUKE OF MILAN AND DEAR LORD,

"The news of King Ferrante's entry into Naples, which your Highness was so good as to send me, has given me the greatest pleasure, both for his Majesty's own sake and for that of your Highness, since it seems to me that all this must help to deliver us the more speedily from the hands of the French. So I congratulate myself with your Excellency, and thank you with all my heart for your kindness in allowing me to share the good news, which has indeed given me the greatest happiness. I only hope that you may soon receive tidings of the recovery of Novara, and begging you to keep me informed of your successes, and to commend me cordially to my sister the duchess,

"I remain, your daughter and servant, ISABELLA DA ESTE."[61]

Written with my own hand in Mantua on the 16th of July, 1495."

The siege of Novara, where the Duke of Orleans had been beleagured since the middle of June, was now the centre of interest in Lombardy. Immediately after Fornovo, the Count of Caiazzo's cavalry had joined his brother Galeazzo's force before Novara, and on the 19th of July the Marquis of Mantua encamped under the walls with the Venetian army. The garrison of the besieged city was six or seven thousand strong, and well provided with arms and ammunition, but already supplies of food were scarce, and men and horses were dying of sickness and hunger. Some dissensions having arisen between Francesco Gonzaga and the other leaders as to the conduct of the siege, the Duke of Milan himself visited the camp of the league on the 3rd of August, bringing with him, says Guicciardini, his beloved wife—"la sua carissima consorte"—who was his companion "no less in matters of importance than in actions familiar, and who on this occasion, it is said, chiefly by her advice and counsel brought the captains to an agreement." A council of war was held, and Lodovico's recommendation to blockade the town instead of carrying it by assault was finally adopted. On the 5th of August the duke and duchess were present at a grand review of the whole army, which, with Galeazzo's troops and the German and Swiss reinforcements, now amounted to upwards of forty thousand men. Never in the memory of man, say the chroniclers, had so great and splendid an army been seen in Italy as that which, with flying colours and beating drums, to the sound of trumpets and martial music, marched past the chariot of Duchess Beatrice. First came the hero of Fornovo, Francesco Gonzaga, at the head of his troop of horse, mounted on magnificent chargers, "a sight admirable to behold;" then the infantry, all in excellent order, led by their different Condottieri, in glittering armour; afterwards the artillery, firing big guns, which seemed to rend the air; then the Stradiots armed with lances, targets, and scimitars, and the Venetian cross-bowmen and light cavalry. These were followed by Galeazzo di Sanseverino, who looked his best that day, clad in French attire as a knight of the Order of St. Michel—for which, we are told, he was sharply reprimanded by the duke—followed by the flower of Milanese chivalry, bearing in their midst the ducal banner with the figure of a Moor, holding an eagle in one hand and strangling a dragon with the other. After Messer Galeaz came his brothers, Antonio Maria and Fracassa, "ce tres-beau et tres-gracieux gendarme," as Commines calls him, each leading his own squadron; and finally the German infantry, consisting of some five or six thousand men.

"It was indeed," writes the Neapolitan scholar, Jacopo d'Atri, who was in attendance on his master, the Marquis of Mantua, "a stupendous sight, and all who were present say that since the days of the Romans, so vast and well-disciplined an army has never been seen." And the Marquis of Mantua, in his letters, never ceased to regret his wife's absence, telling her that she had missed the grandest sight in the world, a thing the like of which she would never see again.

The only drawback to the day's success was an accident which befell the duke's horse, who stumbled and fell as Lodovico passed along the lines, throwing his rider to the ground, and soiling his rich clothes in the mud. "This," remarks the chronicler who tells the story, "was held to be an evil omen, and was remembered afterwards by many who were present that day." After this review, the duke and duchess returned to Vigevano, and the siege of Novara was prosecuted with fresh vigour. In vain Louis of Orleans and his famished soldiers looked out for the French army that was to bring them relief. King Charles had gone to visit his ally the Duchess of Savoy at Turin, and was consoling himself for the toil and disappointments of the campaign by making love to fair Anna Solieri in the neighbouring town of Chieri. Since his reduced forces were unequal to the task of facing the army of the league and relieving Novara, he sent the bailiff of Dijon to raise a body of twelve thousand Swiss in the Cantons friendly to France, and decided to await their arrival before he took active measures.