[43] Comines, Memoires, liv. 7, chap. 16.—Villeneuve, Memoires, apud Petitot, Collection des Memoires, tom. xii., p. 260.—Ammirato, Istorie Florentine, tom. iii. lib. 26.—Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 1, 2.

[44] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 55.—Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 1, 2.—Andre de la Vigne, Histoire de Charles VIII., (Paris, 1617,) p. 201.

[45] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 2, p. 56.—Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. pp. 86, 87.—Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, tom. i. lib. 2, p. 120— Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, chap. 3, 5.—Comines, Memoires, liv. 7, chap. 19.

[46] Guicciardini, Istoria, tom. i. lib. 2, p. 88.—Comines, Memoires, liv. 7, chap. 20.—Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, tom. i. lib. 2, pp. 122, 123.—Daru, Hist. de Venise, tom. iii. pp. 255, 256.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 5.

[47] Comines, Memoires, p. 96.—Comines takes great credit to himself for his perspicacity in detecting the secret negotiations carried on at Venice against his master. According to Bembo, however, the affair was managed with such profound caution, as to escape his notice until it was officially announced by the doge himself; when he was so much astounded by the intelligence, that he was obliged to ask the secretary of the senate, who accompanied him home, the particulars of what the doge had said, as his ideas were so confused at the time, that he had not perfectly comprehended it. Istoria Viniziana, lib. 2, pp. 128, 129.



CHAPTER II.

ITALIAN WARS.—RETREAT OF CHARLES VIII.—CAMPAIGNS OF GONSALVO DE CORDOVA.—FINAL EXPULSION OF THE FRENCH.

1495-1496.

Impolitic Conduct of Charles.—He Plunders the Works of Art.—Gonsalvo de Cordova.—His Brilliant Qualities.—Raised to the Italian Command.—Battle of Seminara.—Gonsalvo's Successes.—Decline of the French.—He Receives the Title of Great Captain.—Expulsion of the French from Italy.

Charles the Eighth might have found abundant occupation, during his brief residence at Naples, in placing the kingdom in a proper posture of defence, and in conciliating the good-will of the inhabitants, without which he could scarcely hope to maintain himself permanently in his conquest. So far from this, however, he showed the utmost aversion to business, wasting his hours, as has been already noticed, in the most frivolous amusements. He treated the great feudal aristocracy of the country with utter neglect; rendering himself difficult of access, and lavishing all dignities and emoluments with partial prodigality on his French subjects. His followers disgusted the nation still further by their insolence and unbridled licentiousness. The people naturally called to mind the virtues of the exiled Ferdinand, whose temperate rule they contrasted with the rash and rapacious conduct of their new masters. The spirit of discontent spread more widely, as the French were too thinly scattered to enforce subordination. A correspondence was entered into with Ferdinand in Sicily, and in a short time several of the most considerable cities of the kingdom openly avowed their allegiance to the house of Aragon. [1]

In the mean time, Charles and his nobles, satiated with a life of inactivity and pleasure, and feeling that they had accomplished the great object of the expedition, began to look with longing eyes towards their own country. Their impatience was converted into anxiety on receiving tidings of the coalition mustering in the north. Charles, however, took care to secure to himself some of the spoils of victory, in a manner which we have seen practised, on a much greater scale, by his countrymen in our day. He collected the various works of art with which Naples was adorned, precious antiques, sculptured marble and alabaster, gates of bronze curiously wrought, and such architectural ornaments as were capable of transportation, and caused them to be embarked on board his fleet for the south of France, "endeavoring," says the Curate of Los Palacios, "to build up his own renown on the ruins of the kings of Naples, of glorious memory." His vessels, however, did not reach their place of destination, but were captured by a Biscayan and Genoese fleet off Pisa. [2]

Charles had entirely failed in his application to Pope Alexander the Sixth for a recognition of his right to Naples, by a formal act of investiture. [3] He determined, however, to go through the ceremony of a coronation; and, on the 12th of May, he made his public entrance into the city, arrayed in splendid robes of scarlet and ermine, with the imperial diadem on his head, a sceptre in one hand, and a globe, the symbol of universal sovereignty, in the other; while the adulatory populace saluted his royal ear with the august title of Emperor. After the conclusion of this farce, he made preparations for his instant departure from Naples. On the 20th of May, he set out on his homeward march, at the head of one-half of his army, amounting in all to not more than nine thousand fighting men. The other half was left for the defence of his new conquest. This arrangement was highly impolitic, since he neither took with him enough to cover his retreat, nor left enough to secure the preservation of Naples. [4]

It is not necessary to follow the French army in its retrograde movement through Italy. It is enough to say, that this was not conducted with sufficient despatch to anticipate the junction of the allied forces, who assembled to dispute its passage on the banks of the Taro, near Fornovo. An action was there fought, in which King Charles, at the head of his loyal chivalry, achieved such deeds of heroism, as shed a lustre over his ill-concerted enterprise, and which, if they did not gain him an undisputed victory, secured the fruits of it, by enabling him to effect his retreat without further molestation. At Turin he entered into negotiation with the calculating duke of Milan, which terminated in the treaty of Vercelli, October 10th, 1495. By this treaty Charles obtained no other advantage than that of detaching his cunning adversary from the coalition. The Venetians, although refusing to accede to it, made no opposition to any arrangement, which would expedite the removal of their formidable foe beyond the Alps. This was speedily accomplished; and Charles, yielding to his own impatience and that of his nobles, recrossed that mountain rampart which nature has so ineffectually provided for the security of Italy, and reached Grenoble with his army on the 27th of the month. Once more restored to his own dominions, the young monarch abandoned himself without reserve to the licentious pleasures to which he was passionately addicted, forgetting alike his dreams of ambition, and the brave companions in arms whom he had deserted in Italy. Thus ended this memorable expedition, which, though crowned with complete success, was attended with no other permanent result to its authors, than that of opening the way to those disastrous wars, which wasted the resources of their country for a great part of the sixteenth century. [5]

Charles the Eighth had left as his viceroy in Naples Gilbert de Bourbon, duke of Montpensier, a prince of the blood, and a brave and loyal nobleman, but of slender military capacity, and so fond of his bed, says Comines, that he seldom left it before noon. The command of the forces in Calabria was intrusted to M. d'Aubigny, a Scottish cavalier of the house of Stuart, raised by Charles to the dignity of grand constable of France. He was so much esteemed for his noble and chivalrous qualities, that he was styled by the annalists of that day, says Brantome, "grand chevalier sans reproche." He had large experience in military matters, and was reputed one of the best officers in the French service. Besides these principal commanders, there were others of subordinate rank stationed at the head of small detachments on different points of the kingdom, and especially in the fortified cities along the coasts. [6]

Scarcely had Charles the Eighth quitted Naples, when his rival, Ferdinand, who had already completed his preparations in Sicily, made a descent on the southern extremity of Calabria. He was supported in this by the Spanish levies under the admiral Requesens, and Gonsalvo of Cordova, who reached Sicily in the month of May. As the latter of these commanders was destined to act a most conspicuous part in the Italian wars, it may not be amiss to give some account of his early life.

Gonzalo Fernandez de Cordova, or Aguilar, as he is sometimes styled from the territorial title assumed by his branch of the family, was born at Montilla, in 1453. His father died early, leaving two sons, Alonso de Aguilar, whose name occurs in some of the most brilliant passages of the war of Granada, and Gonsalvo, three years younger than his brother. During the troubled reigns of John the Second and Henry the Fourth, the city of Cordova was divided by the feuds of the rival families of Cabra and Aguilar; and it is reported that the citizens of the latter faction, after the loss of their natural leader, Gonsalvo's father, used to testify their loyalty to his house by bearing the infant children along with them in their rencontres; thus Gonsalvo may be said to have been literally nursed amid the din of battle. [7]

On the breaking out of the civil wars, the two brothers attached themselves to the fortunes of Alfonso and Isabella. At their court, the young Gonsalvo soon attracted attention by the uncommon beauty of his person, his polished manners, and proficiency in all knightly exercises. He indulged in a profuse magnificence in his apparel, equipage, and general style of living; a circumstance, which, accompanied with his brilliant qualities, gave him the title at the court of el principe de los cavalleros, the prince of cavaliers. This carelessness of expense, indeed, called forth more than once the affectionate remonstrance of his brother Alonso, who, as the elder son, had inherited the mayorazgo, or family estate, and who provided liberally for Gonsalvo's support. He served during the Portuguese war under Alonso de Cardenas, grand master of St. James, and was honored with the public commendations of his general for his signal display of valor at the battle of Albuera; where, it is remarked, the young hero incurred an unnecessary degree of personal hazard by the ostentatious splendor of his armor. Of this commander, and of the count of Tendilla, Gonsalvo always spoke with the greatest deference, acknowledging that he had learned the rudiments of war from them. [8]

The long war of Granada, however, was the great school in which his military discipline was perfected. He did not, it is true, occupy so eminent a position in these campaigns as some other chiefs of riper years and more enlarged experience; but on various occasions he displayed uncommon proofs both of address and valor. He particularly distinguished himself at the capture of Tajara, Illora, and Monte Frio. At the last place, he headed the scaling party, and was the first to mount the walls in the face of the enemy. He wellnigh closed his career in a midnight skirmish before Granada, which occurred a short time before the end of the war. In the heat of the struggle his horse was slain; and Gonsalvo, unable to extricate himself from the morass in which he was entangled, would have perished, but for the faithful servant of the family, who mounted him on his own horse, briefly commending to his master the care of his wife and children. Gonsalvo escaped, but his brave follower paid for his loyalty with his life. At the conclusion of the war, he was selected, together with Ferdinand's secretary Zafra, in consequence of his plausible address, and his familiarity with the Arabic, to conduct the negotiation with the Moorish government. He was secretly introduced for this purpose by night into Granada, and finally succeeded in arranging the terms of capitulation with the unfortunate Abdallah, as has been already stated. In consideration of his various services, the Spanish sovereigns granted him a pension, and a large landed estate in the conquered territory. [9]

After the war, Gonsalvo remained with the court, and his high reputation and brilliant exterior made him one of the most distinguished ornaments of the royal circle. His manners displayed all the romantic gallantry characteristic of the age, of which the following, among other instances, is recorded. The queen accompanied her daughter Joanna on board the fleet which was to bear her to Flanders, the country of her destined husband. After bidding adieu to the infanta, Isabella returned in her boat to the shore; but the waters were so swollen, that it was found difficult to make good a footing for her on the beach. As the sailors were preparing to drag the bark higher up the strand, Gonsalvo, who was present, and dressed, as the Castilian historians are careful to inform us, in a rich suit of brocade and crimson velvet, unwilling that the person of his royal mistress should be profaned by the touch of such rude hands, waded into the water, and bore the queen in his arms to the shore, amid the shouts and plaudits of the spectators. The incident may form a counterpart to the well-known anecdote of Sir Walter Raleigh. [10]

Isabella's long and intimate acquaintance with Gonsalvo enabled her to form a correct estimate of his great talents. When the Italian expedition was resolved on, she instantly fixed her eyes on him as the most suitable person to conduct it. She knew that he possessed the qualities essential to success in a new and difficult enterprise,—courage, constancy, singular prudence, dexterity in negotiation, and inexhaustible fertility of resource. She accordingly recommended him, without hesitation, to her husband, as the commander of the Italian army. He approved her choice, although it seems to have caused no little surprise at the court, which, notwithstanding the favor in which Gonsalvo was held by the sovereigns, was not prepared to see him advanced over the heads of veterans, of so much riper years and higher military renown than himself. The event proved the sagacity of Isabella. [11]

The part of the squadron destined to convey the new general to Sicily was made ready for sea in the spring of 1495. After a tempestuous voyage, he reached Messina on the 24th of May. He found that Ferdinand, of Naples, had already begun operations in Calabria, where he had occupied Reggio with the assistance of the admiral Requesens, who reached Sicily with a part of the armament a short time previous to Gonsalvo's arrival. The whole effective force of the Spaniards did not exceed six hundred lances and fifteen hundred foot, besides those employed in the fleet, amounting to about three thousand and five hundred more. The finances of Spain had been too freely drained in the late Moorish war to authorize any extraordinary expenditure; and Ferdinand designed to assist his kinsman rather with his name, than with any great accession of numbers. Preparations, however, were going forward for raising additional levies, especially among the hardy peasantry of the Asturias and Galicia, on which the war of Granada had fallen less heavily than on the south. [12.]

On the 26th of May, Gonsalvo de Cordova crossed over to Reggio in Calabria, where a plan of operation was concerted between him and the Neapolitan monarch. Before opening the campaign, several strong places in the province, which owed allegiance to the Aragonese family, were placed in the hands of the Spanish general, as security for the reimbursement of expenses incurred by his government in the war. As Gonsalvo placed little reliance on his Calabrian or Sicilian recruits, he was obliged to detach a considerable part of his Spanish forces to garrison these places. [13]

The presence of their monarch revived the dormant loyalty of his Calabrian subjects. They thronged to his standard, till at length he found himself at the head of six thousand men, chiefly composed of the raw militia of the country. He marched at once with Gonsalvo on St. Agatha, which opened its gates without resistance. He then directed his course towards Seminara, a place of some strength about eight leagues from Reggio. On his way he cut in pieces a detachment of French on its march to reinforce the garrison there. Seminara imitated the example of St. Agatha, and, receiving the Neapolitan army without opposition, unfurled the standard of Aragon on its walls. While this was going forward, Antonio Grimani, the Venetian admiral, scoured the eastern coasts of the kingdom with a fleet of four and twenty galleys, and, attacking the strong town of Monopoli, in the possession of the French, put the greater part of the garrison to the sword.

D'Aubigny, who lay at this time with an inconsiderable body of French troops in the south of Calabria, saw the necessity of some vigorous movement to check the further progress of the enemy. He determined to concentrate his forces, scattered through the province, and march against Ferdinand, in the hope of bringing him to a decisive action. For this purpose, in addition to the garrisons dispersed among the principal towns, he summoned to his aid the forces, consisting principally of Swiss infantry, stationed in the Basilicate under Precy, a, brave young cavalier, esteemed one of the best officers in the French service. After the arrival of this reinforcement, aided by the levies of the Angevin barons, D'Aubigny, whose effective strength now greatly surpassed that of his adversary, directed his march towards Seminara. [14]

Ferdinand, who had received no intimation of his adversary's junction with Precy, and who considered him much inferior to himself in numbers, no sooner heard of his approach, than he determined to march out at once before he could reach Seminara, and give him battle. Gonsalvo was of a different opinion. His own troops had too little experience in war with the French and Swiss veterans to make him willing to risk all on the chances of a single battle. The Spanish heavy-armed cavalry, indeed, were a match for any in Europe, and were even said to surpass every other in the beauty and excellence of their appointments, at a period, when arms were finished to luxury. [15] He had but a handful of these, however; by far the greatest part of his cavalry consisting of ginetes, or light-armed troops, of inestimable service in the wild guerilla warfare to which they had been accustomed in Granada, but obviously incapable of coping with the iron gendarmerie of France. He felt some distrust, too, in bringing his little corps of infantry without further preparation, armed, as they were, only with short swords and bucklers, and much reduced, as has been already stated, in number, to encounter the formidable phalanx of Swiss pikes. As for the Calabrian levies, he did not place the least reliance on them. At all events, he thought it prudent, before coming to action, to obtain more accurate information than they now possessed, of the actual strength of the enemy. [16]

In all this, however, he was overruled by the impatience of Ferdinand and his followers. The principal Spanish cavaliers, indeed, as well as the Italian, among whom, may be found names which afterwards rose to high distinction in these wars, urged Gonsalvo to lay aside his scruples; representing the impolicy of showing any distrust of their own strength at this crisis, and of balking the ardor of their soldiers, now hot for action. The Spanish chief, though far from being convinced, yielded to these earnest remonstrances, and King Ferdinand led out his little army without further delay against the enemy.

After traversing a chain of hills, stretching in an easterly direction from Seminara, at the distance of about three miles he arrived before a small stream, on the plains beyond which he discerned the French army in rapid advance against him. He resolved to wait its approach; and, taking position on the slope of the hills towards the river, he drew up his horse on the right wing, and his infantry on the left. [17]

The French generals, D'Aubigny and Precy, putting themselves at the head of their cavalry on the left, consisting of about four hundred heavy- armed, and twice as many light horse, dashed into the water without hesitation. Their right was occupied by the bristling phalanx of Swiss spearmen in close array; behind these were the militia of the country. The Spanish ginetes succeeded in throwing the French gendarmerie into some disorder, before it could form after crossing the stream; but, no sooner was this accomplished, than the Spaniards, incapable of withstanding the charge of their enemy, suddenly wheeled about and precipitately retreated with the intention of again returning on their assailants, after the fashion of the Moorish tactics. The Calabrian militia, not comprehending this manoeuvre, interpreted it into a defeat. They thought the battle lost, and, seized with a panic, broke their ranks, and fled to a man, before the Swiss infantry had time so much as to lower its lances against them.

King Ferdinand in vain attempted to rally the dastardly fugitives. The French cavalry was soon upon them, making frightful slaughter in their ranks. The young monarch, whose splendid arms and towering plumes made him a conspicuous mark in the field, was exposed to imminent peril. He had broken his lance in the body of one of the foremost of the French cavaliers, when his horse fell under him, and as his feet were entangled in the stirrups, he would inevitably have perished in the melee, but for the prompt assistance of a young nobleman named Juan de Altavilla, who mounted his master on his own horse, and calmly awaited the approach of the enemy, by whom he was immediately slain. Instances of this affecting loyalty and self-devotion not unfrequently occur in these wars, throwing a melancholy grace over the darker and more ferocious features of the time. [18]

Gonsalvo was seen in the thickest of the fight, long after the king's escape, charging the enemy briskly at the head of his handful of Spaniards, not in the hope of retrieving the day, but of covering the flight of the panic-struck Neapolitans. At length he was borne along by the rushing tide, and succeeded in bringing off the greater part of his cavalry safe to Seminara. Had the French followed up the blow, the greater part of the royal army, with probably King Ferdinand and Gonsalvo at its head, would have fallen into their hands, and thus not only the fate of the campaign, but of Naples itself, would have been permanently decided by this battle. Fortunately, the French did not understand so well how to use a victory, as to gain it. They made no attempt to pursue. This is imputed to the illness of their general, D'Aubigny, occasioned by the extreme unhealthiness of the climate. He was too feeble to sit long on his horse, and was removed into a litter as soon as the action was decided. Whatever was the cause, the victors by this inaction suffered the golden fruits of victory to escape them. Ferdinand made his escape on the same day on board a vessel which conveyed him back to Sicily; and Gonsalvo, on the following morning before break of day, effected his retreat across the mountains to Reggio, at the head of four hundred Spanish lances. Thus terminated the first battle of importance in which Gonsalvo of Cordova held a distinguished command; the only one which he lost during his long and fortunate career. Its loss, however, attached no discredit to him, since it was entered into in manifest opposition to his judgment. On the contrary, his conduct throughout this affair tended greatly to establish his reputation by showing him to be no less prudent in council, than bold in action. [19]

King Ferdinand, far from being disheartened by this defeat, gained new confidence from his experience of the favorable dispositions existing towards him in Calabria. Relying on a similar feeling of loyalty in his capital, he determined to hazard a bold stroke for its recovery; and that, too, instantly, before his late discomfiture should have time to operate on the spirits of his partisans. He accordingly embarked at Messina, with a handful of troops only, on board the fleet of the Spanish admiral, Requesens. It amounted in all to eighty vessels, most of them of inconsiderable size. With this armament, which, notwithstanding its formidable show, carried little effective force for land operations, the adventurous young monarch appeared off the harbor of Naples before the end of June.

Charles's viceroy, the duke of Montpensier, at that time garrisoned Naples with six thousand French troops. On the appearance of the Spanish navy, he marched out to prevent Ferdinand's landing, leaving a few only of his soldiers to keep the city in awe. But he had scarcely quitted it before the inhabitants, who had waited with impatience an opportunity for throwing off the yoke, sounded the tocsin, and, rising to arms through every part of the city, and massacring the feeble remains of the garrison, shut the gates against him; while Ferdinand, who had succeeded in drawing off the French commander in another direction, no sooner presented himself before the walls, than he was received with transports of joy by the enthusiastic people. [20]

The French, however, though excluded from the city, by making a circuit effected an entrance into the fortresses which commanded it. From these posts, Montpensier sorely annoyed the town, making frequent attacks on it, day and night, at the head of his gendarmerie, until they were at length checked in every direction by barricades which the citizens hastily constructed with wagons, casks of stones, bags of sand, and whatever came most readily to hand. At the same time, the windows, balconies, and house- tops were crowded with combatants, who poured down such a deadly shower of missiles on the heads of the French as finally compelled them to take shelter in their defences. Montpensier was now closely besieged, till at length, reduced by famine, he was compelled to capitulate. Before the term prescribed for his surrender had arrived, however, he effected his escape at night, by water, to Salerno, at the head of twenty-five hundred men. The remaining garrison, with the fortresses, submitted to the victorious Ferdinand, the beginning of the following year. And thus, by one of those sudden turns which belong to the game of war, the exiled prince, whose fortunes a few weeks before appeared perfectly desperate, was again established in the palace of his ancestors. [21]

Montpensier did not long remain in his new quarters. He saw the necessity of immediate action, to counteract the alarming progress of the enemy. He quitted Salerno before the end of winter, strengthening his army by such reinforcements as he could collect from every quarter of the country. With this body, he directed his course towards Apulia, with the intention of bringing Ferdinand, who had already established his headquarters there, to a decisive engagement. Ferdinand's force, however, was so far inferior to that of his antagonist, as to compel him to act on the defensive, until he had been reinforced by a considerable body of troops from Venice. The two armies were then so equally matched, that neither cared to hazard all on the fate of a battle; and the campaign wasted away in languid operations, which led to no important result.

In the mean time, Gonsalvo de Cordova was slowly fighting his way up through southern Calabria. The character of the country, rough and mountainous, like the Alpuxarras, and thickly sprinkled with fortified places, enabled him to bring into play the tactics which he had learned in the war of Granada. He made little use of heavy-armed troops, relying on his ginetes, and still more on his foot; taking care, however, to avoid any direct encounter with the dreaded Swiss battalions. He made amends for paucity of numbers and want of real strength, by rapidity of movement and the wily tactics of Moorish warfare; darting on the enemy where least expected, surprising his strong-holds at dead of night, entangling him in ambuscades, and desolating the country with those terrible forays, whose effects he had so often witnessed on the fair vegas of Granada. He adopted the policy practised by his master Ferdinand the Catholic in the Moorish war, lenient to the submissive foe, but wreaking terrible vengeance on such as resisted. [22]

The French were sorely disconcerted by these irregular operations, so unlike anything to which they were accustomed in European warfare. They were further disheartened by the continued illness of D'Aubigny, and by the growing disaffection of the Calabrians, who in the southern provinces contiguous to Sicily were particularly well inclined to Spain.

Gonsalvo, availing himself of these friendly dispositions, pushed forward his successes, carrying one strong-hold after another, until by the end of the year he had overrun the whole of Lower Calabria. His progress would have been still more rapid but for the serious embarrassments which he experienced from want of supplies. He had received some reinforcements from Sicily, but very few from Spain; while the boasted Galician levies, instead of fifteen hundred, had dwindled to scarcely three hundred men; who arrived in the most miserable plight, destitute of clothing and munitions of every kind. He was compelled to weaken still further his inadequate force by garrisoning the conquered places, most of which, however, he was obliged to leave without any defence at all. In addition to this, he was so destitute of the necessary funds for the payment of his troops, that he was detained nearly two months at Nicastro, until February, 1496, when he received a remittance from Spain. After this, he resumed operations with such vigor, that by the end of the following spring he had reduced all Upper Calabria, with the exception of a small corner of the province, in which D'Aubigny still maintained himself. At this crisis, he was summoned from the scene of his conquests to the support of the king of Naples, who lay encamped before Atella, a town intrenched among the Apennines, on the western borders of the Basilicate. [23] The campaign of the preceding winter had terminated without any decisive results, the two armies of Montpensier and King Ferdinand having continued in sight of each other, without ever coming to action. These protracted operations were fatal to the French. Their few supplies were intercepted by the peasantry of the country; their Swiss and German mercenaries mutinied and deserted for want of pay; and the Neapolitans in their service went off in great numbers, disgusted with the insolent and overbearing manners of their new allies. Charles the Eighth, in the mean while, was wasting his hours and health in the usual round of profligate pleasures. From the moment of recrossing the Alps he seemed to have shut out Italy from his thoughts. He was equally insensible to the supplications of the few Italians at his court, and the remonstrances of his French nobles, many of whom, although opposed to the first expedition, would willingly have undertaken a second to support their brave comrades, whom the heedless young monarch now abandoned to their fate. [24]

At length Montpensier, finding no prospect of relief from home, and straitened by the want of provisions, determined to draw off from the neighborhood of Benevento, where the two armies lay encamped, and retreat to the fruitful province of Apulia, whose principal places were still garrisoned by the French. He broke up his camp secretly at dead of night, and gained a day's march on his enemy, before the latter began his pursuit. This Ferdinand pushed with such vigor, however, that he overtook the retreating army at the town of Atella, and completely intercepted its further progress. This town, which, as already noticed, is situated on, the western skirts of the Basilicate, lies in a broad valley encompassed by a lofty amphitheatre of hills, through which flows a little river, tributary to the Ofanto, watering the town, and turning several mills which supplied it with flour. At a few miles' distance was the strong place of Ripa Candida, garrisoned by the French, through which Montpensier hoped to maintain his communications with the fertile regions of the interior.

Ferdinand, desirous if possible to bring the war to a close, by the capture of the whole French army, prepared for a vigorous blockade. He disposed his forces so as to intercept supplies by commanding the avenues to the town in every direction. He soon found, however, that his army, though considerably stronger than his rival's, was incompetent to this without further aid. He accordingly resolved to summon to his support Gonsalvo de Cordova, the fame of whose exploits now resounded through every part of the kingdom. [25]

The Spanish general received Ferdinand's summons while encamped with his army at Castrovillari, in the north of Upper Calabria. If he complied with it, he saw himself in danger of losing all the fruits of his long campaign of victories; for his active enemy would not fail to profit by his absence to repair his losses. If he refused obedience, however, it might defeat the most favorable opportunity which had yet presented itself for bringing the war to a close. He resolved, therefore, at once to quit the field of his triumphs, and march to King Ferdinand's relief. But, before his departure, he prepared to strike such a blow as should, if possible, incapacitate his enemy for any effectual movement during his absence.

He received intelligence that a considerable number of Angevin lords, mostly of the powerful house of San Severino, with their vassals and a reinforcement of French troops, were assembled at the little town of Laino, on the northwestern borders of Upper Calabria; where they lay awaiting a junction with D'Aubigny. Gonsalvo determined to surprise this place, and capture the rich spoils which it contained, before his departure. His road lay through a wild and mountainous country. The passes were occupied by the Calabrian peasantry in the interest of the Angevin party. The Spanish general, however, found no difficulty in forcing a way through this undisciplined rabble, a large body of whom he surrounded and cut to pieces, as they lay in ambush for him in the valley of Murano. Laino, whose base is washed by the waters of the Lao, was defended by a strong castle built on the opposite side of the river, and connected by a bridge with the town. All approach to the place by the high road was commanded by this fortress. Gonsalvo obviated this difficulty, however, by a circuitous route across the mountains. He marched all night, and, fording the waters of the Lao about two miles above the town, entered it with his little army before break of day, having previously detached a small corps to take possession of the bridge. The inhabitants, startled from their slumbers by the unexpected appearance of the enemy in their streets, hastily seized their arms and made for the castle on the other side of the river. The pass, however, was occupied by the Spaniards; and the Neapolitans and French, hemmed in on every side, began a desperate resistance, which terminated with the death of their chief, Americo San Severino, and the capture of such of his followers as did not fall in the melee. A rich booty fell into the hands of the victors. The most glorious prize, however, was the Angevin barons, twenty in number, whom Gonsalvo, after the action, sent prisoners to Naples. This decisive blow, whose tidings spread like wildfire throughout the country, settled the fate of Calabria. It struck terror into the hearts of the French, and crippled them so far as to leave Gonsalvo little cause for anxiety during his proposed absence. [26]

The Spanish general lost no time in pressing forward on his march towards Atella. Before quitting Calabria he had received a reinforcement of five hundred soldiers from Spain, and his whole Spanish forces, according to Giovio, amounted to one hundred men-at-arms, five hundred light cavalry, and two thousand foot, picked men, and well schooled in the hardy service of the late campaign. [27] Although a great part of his march lay through a hostile country, he encountered little opposition; for the terror of his name, says the writer last quoted, had everywhere gone before him. He arrived before Atella at the beginning of July. The king of Naples was no sooner advised of his approach, than he marched out of camp, attended by the Venetian general, the marquis of Mantua, and the papal legate, Caesar Borgia, to receive him. All were eager to do honor to the man who had achieved such brilliant exploits; who, in less than a year, had made himself master of the larger part of the kingdom of Naples, and that, with the most limited resources, in defiance of the bravest and best disciplined soldiery in Europe. It was then, according to the Spanish writers, that he was by general consent greeted with the title of the Great Captain; by which he is much more familiarly known in Spanish, and, it may be added, in most histories of the period, than by his own name. [28]

Gonsalvo found the French sorely distressed by the blockade, which was so strictly maintained as to allow few supplies from abroad to pass into the town. His quick eye discovered at once, however, that in order to render it perfectly effectual, it would be necessary to destroy the mills in the vicinity, which supplied Atella with flour. He undertook this, on the day of his arrival, at the head of his own corps. Montpensier, aware of the importance of these mills, had stationed a strong guard for their defence, consisting of a body of Gascon archers, and the Swiss pikemen. Although the Spaniards had never been brought into direct collision with any large masses of this formidable infantry, yet occasional rencontres with small detachments, and increased familiarity with its tactics, had stripped it of much of its terrors. Gonsalvo had even so far profited by the example of the Swiss, as to strengthen his infantry by mingling the long pikes, with the short swords and bucklers of the Spaniards. [29]

He made two divisions of his cavalry, posting his handful of heavy-armed, with some of the light horse, so as to check any sally from the town, while he destined the remainder to support the infantry in the attack upon the enemy. Having made these arrangements, the Spanish chieftain led on his men confidently to the charge. The Gascon archery, however, seized with a panic, scarcely awaited his approach, but fled shamefully, before they had time to discharge a second volley of arrows, leaving the battle to the Swiss. These latter, exhausted by the sufferings of the siege, and dispirited by long reverses, and by the presence of a new and victorious foe, did not behave with their wonted intrepidity, but, after a feeble resistance, abandoned their position, and retreated towards the city. Gonsalvo, having gained his object, did not care to pursue the fugitives, but instantly set about demolishing the mills, every vestige of which, in a few hours, was swept from the ground. Three days after, he supported the Neapolitan troops in an assault on Ripa Candida, and carried that important post, by means of which Atella maintained a communication with the interior. [30]

Thus cut off from all their resources, and no longer cheered by hopes of succor from their own country, the French, after suffering the severest privations, and being reduced to the most loathsome aliment for subsistence, made overtures for a capitulation. The terms were soon arranged with the king of Naples, who had no desire but to rid his country of the invaders. It was agreed, that, if the French commander did not receive assistance in thirty days, he should evacuate Atella, and cause every place holding under him in the kingdom of Naples, with all its artillery, to be surrendered to King Ferdinand; and that, on these conditions, his soldiers should be furnished with vessels to transport them back to France; that the foreign mercenaries should be permitted to return to their own homes; and that a general amnesty should be extended to such Neapolitans as returned to their allegiance in fifteen days. [31]

Such were the articles of capitulation, signed on the 21st of July, 1496, which Comines, who received the tidings at the court of France, does not hesitate to denounce as "a most disgraceful treaty, without parallel, save in that made by the Roman consuls at the Caudine Forks, which was too dishonorable to be sanctioned by their countrymen." The reproach is certainly unmerited; and comes with ill grace from a court, which was wasting in riotous indulgence the very resources indispensable to the brave and loyal subjects, who were endeavoring to maintain its honor in a foreign land. [32]

Unfortunately, Montpensier was unable to enforce the full performance of his own treaty; as many of the French refused to deliver up the places intrusted to them, under the pretence that their authority was derived, not from the viceroy, but from the king himself. During the discussion of this point, the French troops were removed to Baia and Pozzuolo, and the adjacent places on the coast. The unhealthiness of the situation, together with that of the autumnal season, and an intemperate indulgence in fruits and wine, soon brought on an epidemic among the soldiers, which swept them off in great numbers. The gallant Montpensier was one of the first victims. He refused the earnest solicitations of his brother-in-law, the marquis of Mantua, to quit his unfortunate companions, and retire to a place of safety in the interior. The shore was literally strewed with the bodies of the dying and the dead. Of the whole number of Frenchmen, amounting to not less than five thousand, who marched out of Atella, not more than five hundred ever reached their native country. The Swiss and other mercenaries were scarcely more fortunate. "They made their way back as they could through Italy," says a writer of the period, "in the most deplorable state of destitution and suffering, the gaze of all, and a sad example of the caprice of fortune." [33] Such was the miserable fate of that brilliant and formidable array, which scarcely two years before had poured down on the fair fields of Italy in all the insolence of expected conquest. Well would it be, if the name of every conqueror, whose successes, though built on human misery, are so dazzling to the imagination, could be made to point a moral for the instruction of his species, as effectually as that of Charles the Eighth.

The young king of Naples did not live long to enjoy his triumphs. On his return from Atella, he contracted an inauspicious marriage with his aunt, a lady nearly of his own age, to whom he had been long attached. A careless and somewhat intemperate indulgence in pleasure, succeeding the hardy life which he had been lately leading, brought on a flux which carried him off in the twenty-eighth year of his age, and second of his reign. He was the fifth monarch, who, in the brief compass of three years, had sat on the disastrous throne of Naples.

Ferdinand possessed many qualities suited to the turbulent times in which he lived. He was vigorous and prompt in action, and naturally of a high and generous spirit. Still, however, he exhibited glimpses, even in his last hours, of an obliquity, not to say ferocity of temper, which characterized many of his line, and which led to ominous conjectures as to what would have been his future policy. [34]

He was succeeded on the throne by his uncle Frederic, a prince of gentle disposition, endeared to the Neapolitans by repeated acts of benevolence, and by a magnanimous regard for justice, of which the remarkable fluctuations of his fortune had elicited more than one example. His amiable virtues, however, required a kindlier soil and season for their expansion; and, as the event proved, made him no match for the subtile and unscrupulous politicians of the age.

His first act was a general amnesty to the disaffected Neapolitans, who felt such confidence in his good faith, that they returned, with scarcely an exception, to their allegiance. His next measure was to request the aid of Gonsalvo de Cordova in suppressing the hostile movements made by the French during his absence from Calabria. At the name of the Great Captain, the Italians flocked from all quarters, to serve without pay under a banner which was sure to lead them to victory. Tower and town, as he advanced, went down before him; and the French general, D'Aubigny, soon saw himself reduced to the necessity of making the best terms he could with his conqueror, and evacuating the province altogether. The submission of Calabria was speedily followed by that of the few remaining cities in other quarters, still garrisoned by the French; comprehending the last rood of territory possessed by Charles the Eighth in the kingdom of Naples. [35]

* * * * *

Our narrative now leads us on the beaten track of Italian history. I have endeavored to make the reader acquainted with the peculiar character and pretensions of the principal Spanish authorities, on whom I have relied in the progress of the work. This would be superfluous in regard to the Italian, who enjoy the rank of classics, not only in their own country, but throughout Europe, and have furnished the earliest models among the moderns of historic composition. Fortunately, two of the most eminent of them, Guicciardini and Paolo Giovio, lived at the period of our narrative, and have embraced the whole extent of it in their histories. These two writers, besides the attractions of elegant scholarship, and talent, occupied a position which enabled them to take a clear view of all the principal political movements of their age; circumstances, which have made their accounts of infinite value in respect to foreign transactions, as well as domestic. Guicciardini was a conspicuous actor in the scenes he describes; and a long residence at the court of Ferdinand the Catholic opened to him the most authentic sources of information in regard to Spain. Giovio, from his intimate relations with the principal persons of his time, had also access to the best sources of knowledge, while in the notice of foreign transactions he was but little exposed to those venal influences, which led him too often to employ the golden or iron pen of history as interest dictated. Unfortunately, a lamentable hiatus occurs in his greatest work, "Historiae sui Temporis," embracing the whole period intervening between the end of Charles VIII.'s expedition and the accession of Leo X., in 1513. At the time of the memorable sack of Rome by the duke of Bourbon, in 1527, Giovio deposited his manuscript, with a quantity of plate, in an iron chest, which he hid in an obscure corner of the church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva. The treasure, however, did not escape the searching eyes of two Spanish soldiers, who broke open the chest, and one of them seized on the plate, regarding the papers as of no value. The other, not being quite such a fool, says Giovio, preserved such of the manuscripts as were on vellum, and ornamented with rich bindings, but threw away what was written on paper.

The part thus thrown away contained six books, relating to the period above mentioned, which were never afterwards recovered. The soldier brought the remainder to their author, who bought them at the price of a vacant benefice, which he persuaded the pope to confer on the freebooter, in his native land of Cordova. It is not often that simony has found so good an apology. The deficiency, although never repaired by Giovio, was in some degree supplied by his biographies of eminent men, and, among others, by that of Gonsalvo de Cordova, in which he has collected with great industry all the events of any interest in the life of this great commander. The narrative is in general corroborated by the Spanish authorities, and contains some additional particulars, especially respecting his early life, which Giovio's personal intimacy with the principal characters of the period might easily have furnished.

This portion of our story is, moreover, illustrated by the labors of M. Sismondi, in his "Republiques Italiennes," which may undoubtedly claim to be ranked among the most remarkable historical achievements of our time; whether we consider the dexterous management of the narrative, or the admirable spirit of philosophy by which it is illumined. It must be admitted, that he has perfectly succeeded in unravelling the intricate web of Italian politics; and, notwithstanding the complicated, and, indeed, motley character of his subject, the historian has left a uniform and harmonious impression on the mind of the reader. This he has accomplished, by keeping constantly in view the principle which regulated all the various movements of the complex machinery; so that his narrative becomes, what he terms it in his English abridgment, a history of Italian liberty. By keeping this principle steadily before him, he has been able to solve much that hitherto was dark and problematical in his subject; and if he has occasionally sacrificed something to theory, he has, on the whole, pursued the investigation in a truly philosophical manner, and arrived at results the most honorable and cheering to humanity. Fortunately, his own mind was deeply penetrated with reverence for the free institutions which he has analyzed. If it is too much to say that the historian of republics should be himself a republican, it is at least true that his soul should be penetrated to its very depths with the spirit which animates them. No one, who is not smitten with the love of freedom, can furnish the key to much that is enigmatical in her character, and reconcile his readers to the harsh and repulsive features that she sometimes wears, by revealing the beauty and grandeur of the soul within.

That portion of our narrative which is incorporated with Italian story is too small to occupy much space on Sismondi's plan. He has discussed it, moreover, in a manner not very favorable to the Spaniards, whom he seems to have regarded with somewhat of the aversion with which an Italian of the sixteenth century viewed the ultramontane barbarians of Europe. Perhaps the reader may find some advantage in contemplating another side of the picture, and studying the less familiar details presented by the Spanish authorities.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Comines, Memoires, liv. 7, chap. 17.—Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.—Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2.

[2] Bernaldez, Reyes Catolicos, MS., cap. 140-143.

[3] Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.

According to Giannone, (Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2,) he did obtain the investiture from the pope; but this statement is contradicted by several, and confirmed by none, of the authorities I have consulted.

[4] Brantome, Hommes Illustres, Oeuvres, tom. ii. pp. 3-5.—Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 2.

The particulars of the coronation are recorded with punctilious precision by Andre de la Vigne, secretary of Queen Anne. (Hist. de Charles VIII., p. 201.) Daru has confounded this farce with Charles's original entry into Naples in February. Hist. de Venise, tom. iii. liv. 20, p. 247.

[5] Villeneuve, Memoires, apud Petitot, Collection de Memoires, tom. xiv. pp. 262, 263.—Flassan, Diplomatie Francaise, tom. i. pp. 267-269.— Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 10-12, 18.

[6] Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 1.—Brantome, Hommes Illustres, tom. ii. p. 59.

[7] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.—Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 204, 205.

[8] Pulgar, Sumario de las Hazanas del Gran Capitan, (Madrid, 1834,) p. 145.—Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 205 et seq.

[9] Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 90.—Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 211, 212.—Conde, Dominacion de los Arabes, tom. iii. cap. 42.—Quintana, Espanoles Celebres, tom. i. pp. 207-216.—Pulgar, Sumario, p. 193.

Florian has given circulation to a popular error by his romance of "Gonsalve de Cordone," where the young warrior is made to play a part he is by no means entitled to, as hero of the Granadine war. Graver writers, who cannot lawfully plead the privilege of romancing, have committed the same error. See, among others, Varillas, Politique de Ferdinand, p. 3.

[10] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 214.—Chronica del Gran Capitan Gonzalo Hernandez de Cordova y Aguilar, (Alcala de Henares, 1584,) cap. 23.

Another example of his gallantry occurred during the Granadine war, when the fire of Santa Fe had consumed the royal tent, with the greater part of the queen's apparel and other valuable effects. Gonsalvo, on learning the disaster, at his castle of Illora, supplied the queen so abundantly from the magnificent wardrobe of his wife Dona Maria Manrique, as led Isabella pleasantly to remark, that, "the fire had done more execution in his quarters, than in her own." Pulgar, Sumario, p. 187.

[11] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 214.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 23.

[12] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7, 24.—Quintana, Espanoles Celebres, tom. i. p. 222.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, ubi supra.

Giovio, in his biography of Gonsalvo, estimates these forces at 5000 foot and 600 horse, which last in his History he raises to 700. I have followed Zurita, as presenting the more probable statement, and as generally more accurate in all that relates to his own nation. It is a hopeless task to attempt to reconcile the manifold inaccuracies, contradictions, and discrepancies, which perplex the narratives of the writers on both sides, in everything relating to numerical estimates. The difficulty is greatly increased by the extremely vague application of the term lance, as we meet with it, including six, four, three, or even a less number of followers, as the case might be.

[13] Mariana, Hist. de Espana, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 10.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.

The occupation of these places by Gonsalvo excited the pope's jealousy, as to the designs of the Spanish sovereigns. In consequence of his remonstrances, the Castilian envoy, Garcilasso de la Vega, was instructed to direct Gonsalvo, that, "in case any inferior places had been since put into his hands, he should restore them; if they were of importance, however, he was first to confer with his own government." King Ferdinand, as Abarca assures his readers, "was unwilling to give cause of complaint to any one, unless he were greatly a gainer by it." Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 8.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. v. lib. 2, cap. 8.

[14] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, pp. 215-217.—Idem, Hist. sui Temporis, pp. 83-85.—Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, pp. 160, 185.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 8.—Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, pp. 88, 92.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 25.

[15] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1.—Du Bos, Ligue de Cambray, introd., p. 58.

[16] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 7.—Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, ubi supra.

[17] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 216, 217.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 24.—Quintana, Espanoles Celebres, tom. i. pp. 223-227.

[18] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 83-85.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 24.—Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 6, cap. 2.— Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, p. 112.—Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, p. 690.

[19] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 1, p. 112.—Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, p. 85.—Lanuza, Historias, tom. i. lib. 1, cap. 7.

[20] Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. vi. p. 519.—Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, pp. 113, 114.—Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 87, 88.— Villeneuve, Memoires, apud Petitot, Collection des Memoires, tom. xiv. pp. 264, 265.

[21] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 3, pp. 88-90, 114-119.— Guicciardini, Istoria, lib, 2, pp. 114-117.—Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, tom. vi. pp. 520, 521.

[22] Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, pp. 173, 174.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 26.—Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 218.— Villeneuve, Memoires, p. 313.—Sismondi, Republiques Italiennes, tom. xii. p. 386.

[23] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 11, 20.—Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 2, p. 140.—Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 219, 220.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 25, 26.

[24] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, pp. 140, 157, 158.—Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 23, 24.—Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 183.

Du Bos discriminates between the character of the German levies or landsknechts and the Swiss, in the following terms. "Les lansquenets etoient meme de beaucoup mieux faits, generalement parlant, et de bien meilleure mine sous les armes, que les fantassins Suisses; mais ils etoient incapables de discipline. Au contraire des Suisses, ils etoient sans obeissance pour leur chefs, et sans amitie pours leurs camarades." (Ligue de Cambray, tom. i. dissert. prelim., p. 66.) Comines confirms the distinction with a high tribute to the loyalty of the Swiss, which has continued their honorable characteristic to the present day. Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.

[25] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, pp. 218, 219.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 28.—Quintana, Espanoles Celebres, tom. i. p. 226.—Bembo, Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, p. 184.—Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 158.

[26] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, pp. 219, 220.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 27.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, tom. i. lib. 2, cap. 26.—Quintana, Espanoles Celebres, tom. i. pp. 227, 228.—Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, pp. 158, 159.—Mariana, Hist. de Espana, tom. ii. lib. 26, cap. 12.

[27] Giovio, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 4, p. 132.

[28] Quintana, Espanoles Celebres, tom. i. p. 228.—Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 220.

The Aragonese historians are much ruffled by the irreverent manner in which Guicciardini notices the origin of the cognomen of the Great Captain; which even his subsequent panegyric cannot atone for. "Era capitano Gonsalvo Ernandes, di casa d'Aghilar, di patria Cordovese, uomo di molto valore, ed esercitato lungamente nelle guerre di Granata, il quale nel principio della venuta sua in Italia, cognominato dalla jattanza Spagnuola il Gran Capitano, per significare con questo titolo la suprema podesta sopra loro, merito per le preclare vittorie che ebbe dipoi, che per consentimento universale gli fosse confermato e perpetuate questo sopranome, per significazione di virtu grande, e di grande eccellenza nella disciplina militare." (Istoria, tom. i. p. 112.) According to Zurita, the title was not conferred till the Spanish general's appearance before Atella, and the first example of its formal recognition was in the instrument of capitulation at that place. (Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 27.) This seems to derive support from the fact that Gonsalvo's biographer and contemporary, Giovio, begins to distinguish him by that epithet from this period. Abarca assigns a higher antiquity to it, quoting the words of the royal grant of the duchy of Sessa, made to Gonsalvo, as authority. (Reyes de Aragon, rey 39, cap. 9.) In a former edition, I intimated my doubt of the historian's accuracy. A subsequent inspection of the instrument itself, in a work since come into my possession, shows this distrust to have been well founded; for it is there simply said, that the title was conferred in Italy. Pulgar, Sumario, p. 188.

[29] This was improving on the somewhat similar expedient ascribed by Polybius to King Pyrrhus, who mingled alternate cohorts, armed with short weapons after the Roman fashion, with those of his Macedonian spearmen. Lib. 17 sec. 24.

[30] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 4, p. 133.—Idem, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, pp. 220, 221.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 27. —Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 28.—Quintana, Espanoles Celebres, tom. i. p. 229.—Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 9.

[31] Villeneuve, Memoires, p. 318.—Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.— Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib. 4, p. 136.

[32] Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.

[33] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, p. 137.—Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 21.—Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 221.—Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 160.—Villeneuve, Memoires, apud Petitot, tom. xiv. p. 318.

[34] Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, lib. 29, cap. 2.—Summonte, Hist. di Napoli, lib. 6, cap. 2.—Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 188.

While stretched on his death-bed, Ferdinand, according to Bembo, caused the head of his prisoner, the Bishop of Teano, to be brought to him, and laid at the foot of his couch, that he might be assured with his own eyes of the execution of the sentence. Istoria Viniziana, lib. 3, p. 189.

[35] Giovio, Hist. sui Temporis, lib, 4, p. 139.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 30, 33.—Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 160.— Giannone, Istoria di Napoli, tom. iii. lib. 29, cap. 3.



CHAPTER III.

ITALIAN WARS.—GONSALVO SUCCORS THE POPE.—TREATY WITH FRANCE.— ORGANIZATION OF THE SPANISH MILITIA.

1496-1498.

Gonsalvo Succors the Pope.—Storms Ostia.—Reception in Rome.—Peace with France.—Ferdinand's Reputation advanced by his Conduct in the War.— Organization of the Militia.

It had been arranged by the treaty of Venice, that while the allies were carrying on the war in Naples, the emperor elect and the king of Spain should make a diversion in their favor, by invading the French frontiers. Ferdinand had performed his part of the engagement. Ever since the beginning of the war, he had maintained a large force along the borders from Fontarabia to Perpignan. In 1496, the regular army kept in pay amounted to ten thousand horse and fifteen thousand foot; which, together with the Sicilian armament, necessarily involved an expenditure exceedingly heavy under the financial pressure occasioned by the Moorish war. The command of the levies in Roussillon was given to Don Enrique Enriquez de Guzman, who, far from acting on the defensive, carried his men repeatedly over the border, sweeping off fifteen or twenty thousand head of cattle in a single foray, and ravaging the country as far as Carcassona and Narbonne. [1] had concentrated a considerable force in the south, retaliated by similar inroads, in one of which they succeeded in surprising the fortified town of Salsas. The works, however, were in so dilapidated a state, that the place was scarcely tenable, and it was abandoned on the approach of the Spanish army. A truce soon followed, which put an end to further operations in that quarter. [2]

The submission of Calabria seemed to leave no further occupation for the arms of the Great Captain in Italy. Before quitting that country, however, he engaged in an adventure, which, as narrated by his biographers, forms a brilliant episode to his regular campaigns. Ostia, the seaport of Rome, was, among the places in the papal territory, forcibly occupied by Charles the Eighth, and on his retreat had been left to a French garrison under the command of a Biscayan adventurer named Menaldo Guerri. The place was so situated as entirely to command the mouth of the Tiber, enabling the piratical horde who garrisoned it almost wholly to destroy the commerce of Rome, and even to reduce the city to great distress for want of provisions. The imbecile government, incapable of defending itself, implored Gonsalvo's aid in dislodging this nest of formidable freebooters. The Spanish general, who was now at leisure, complied with the pontiff's solicitations, and soon after presented himself before Ostia with his little corps of troops, amounting in all to three hundred horse and fifteen hundred foot. [3]

Guerri, trusting to the strength of his defences, refused to surrender. Gonsalvo, after coolly preparing his batteries, opened a heavy cannonade on the place, which at the end of five days effected a practicable breach in the walls. In the mean time, Garcilasso de la Vega, the Castilian ambassador at the papal court, who could not bear to remain inactive so near the field where laurels were to be won, arrived to Gonsalvo's support, with a handful of his own countrymen resident in Rome. This gallant little band, scaling the walls on the opposite side to that assailed by Gonsalvo, effected an entrance into the town, while the garrison was occupied with maintaining the breach against the main body of the Spaniards. Thus surprised, and hemmed in on both sides, Guerri and his associates made no further resistance, but surrendered themselves prisoners of war; and Gonsalvo, with more clemency than was usually shown on such occasions, stopped the carnage, and reserved his captives to grace his entry into the capital. [4]

This was made a few days after, with all the pomp of a Roman triumph. The Spanish general entered by the gate of Ostia, at the head of his martial squadrons in battle array, with colors flying and music playing, while the rear was brought up by the captive chief and his confederates, so long the terror, now the derision, of the populace. The balconies and windows were crowded with spectators, and the streets, lined with multitudes, who shouted forth the name of Gonsalvo de Cordova, the "deliverer of Rome!" The procession took its way through the principal streets of the city towards the Vatican, where Alexander the Sixth awaited its approach, seated under a canopy of state in the chief saloon of the palace, surrounded by his great ecclesiastics and nobility. On Gonsalvo's entrance, the cardinals rose to receive him. The Spanish general knelt down to receive the benediction of the pope; but the latter, raising him up, kissed him on the forehead, and complimented him with the golden rose, which the Holy See was accustomed to dispense as the reward of its most devoted champions.

In the conversation which ensued, Gonsalvo obtained the pardon of Guerri and his associates, and an exemption from taxes for the oppressed inhabitants of Ostia. In a subsequent part of the discourse, the pope taking occasion most inopportunely to accuse the Spanish sovereigns of unfavorable dispositions towards himself, Gonsalvo replied with much warmth, enumerating the various good offices rendered by them to the church; and, roundly taxing the pope with ingratitude, somewhat bluntly advised him to reform his life and conversation, which brought scandal on all Christendom. His Holiness testified no indignation at this unsavory rebuke of the Great Captain, though, as the historians with some simplicity inform us, he was greatly surprised to find the latter so fluent in discourse, and so well instructed in matters foreign to his profession. [5]

Gonsalvo experienced the most honorable reception from King Frederic on his return to Naples. During his continuance there, he was lodged and sumptuously entertained in one of the royal fortresses; and the grateful monarch requited his services with the title of Duke of St. Angelo, and an estate in Abruzzo, containing three thousand vassals. He had before pressed these honors on the victor, who declined accepting them till he had obtained the consent of his own sovereigns. Soon after, Gonsalvo, quitting Naples, revisited Sicily, where he adjusted certain differences which had arisen betwixt the viceroy and the inhabitants respecting the revenues of the island. Then embarking with his whole force, he reached the shores of Spain in the month of August, 1498. His return to his native land was greeted with a general enthusiasm far more grateful to his patriotic heart, than any homage or honors conferred by foreign princes. Isabella welcomed him with pride and satisfaction, as having fully vindicated her preference of him to his more experienced rivals for the difficult post of Italy; and Ferdinand did not hesitate to declare, that the Calabrian campaigns reflected more lustre on his crown, than the conquest of Granada. [6]

The total expulsion of the French from Naples brought hostilities between that nation and Spain to a close. The latter had gained her point, and the former had little heart to resume so disastrous an enterprise. Before this event, indeed, overtures had been made by the French court for a separate treaty with Spain. The latter, however, was unwilling to enter into any compact, without the participation of her allies. After the total abandonment of the French enterprise, there seemed to exist no further pretext for prolonging the war. The Spanish government, moreover, had little cause for satisfaction with its confederates. The emperor had not co-operated in the descent on the enemy's frontier, according to agreement; nor had the allies ever reimbursed Spain for the heavy charges incurred in fulfilling her part of the engagements. The Venetians were taken up with securing to themselves as much of the Neapolitan territory as they could, by way of indemnification for their own expenses. [7] The duke of Milan had already made a separate treaty with King Charles. In short, every member of the league, after the first alarm subsided, had shown itself ready to sacrifice the common weal to its own private ends. With these causes of disgust, the Spanish government consented to a truce with France, to begin for itself on the 5th of March, and, for the allies, if they chose to be included in it, seven weeks later, and to continue till the end of October, 1497. This truce was subsequently prolonged, and, after the death of Charles the Eighth, terminated in a definitive treaty of peace, signed at Marcoussi, August 5th, 1498. [8]

In the discussions to which these arrangements gave rise, the project is said to have been broached for the conquest and division of the kingdom of Naples by the combined powers of France and Spain, which was carried into effect some years later. According to Comines, the proposition originated with the Spanish court, although it saw fit, in a subsequent period of the negotiations, to disavow the fact. [9] The Spanish writers, on the other hand, impute the first suggestion of it to the French, who, they say, went so far as to specify the details of the partition subsequently adopted, according to which the two Calabrias were assigned to Spain. However this may be, there is little doubt that Ferdinand had long since entertained the idea of asserting his claim, at some time or other, to the crown of Naples. He, as well as his father, and indeed the whole nation, had beheld with dissatisfaction the transfer of what they deemed their rightful inheritance, purchased by the blood and treasure of Aragon, to an illegitimate branch of the family. The accession of Frederic, in particular, who came to the throne with the support of the Angevin party, the old enemies of Aragon, had given great umbrage to the Spanish monarch.

The Castilian envoy, Garcilasso de la Vega, agreeably to the instructions of his court, urged Alexander the Sixth to withhold the investiture of the kingdom from Frederic, but unavailingly, as the pope's interests were too closely connected, by marriage, with those of the royal family of Naples. Under these circumstances, it was somewhat doubtful what course Gonsalvo should be directed to pursue in the present exigency. That prudent commander, however, found the new monarch too strong in the affections of his people to be disturbed at present. All that now remained for Ferdinand, therefore, was to rest contented with the possession of the strong posts pledged for the reimbursement of his expenses in the war, and to make such use of the correspondence which the late campaigns had opened to him in Calabria, that, when the time arrived for action, he might act with effect. [10]

Ferdinand's conduct through the whole of the Italian war had greatly enhanced his reputation throughout Europe for sagacity and prudence. It afforded a most advantageous comparison with that of his rival, Charles the Eighth, whose very first act had been the surrender of so important a territory as Roussillon. The construction of the treaty relating to this, indeed, laid the Spanish monarch open to the imputation of artifice. But this, at least, did no violence to the political maxims of the age and only made him regarded as the more shrewd and subtile diplomatist; while, on the other hand, he appeared before the world in the imposing attitude of the defender of the church, and of the rights of his injured kinsman. His influence had been clearly discernible in every operation of moment, whether civil or military. He had been most active, through his ambassadors at Genoa, Venice, and Rome, in stirring up the great Italian confederacy, which eventually broke the power of King Charles; and his representations had tended, as much as any other cause, to alarm the jealousy of Sforza, to fix the vacillating politics of Alexander, and to quicken the cautious and dilatory movements of Venice. He had shown equal vigor in action; and contributed mainly to the success of the war by his operations on the side of Roussillon, and still more in Calabria. On the latter, indeed, he had not lavished any extraordinary expenditure; a circumstance partly attributable to the state of his finances, severely taxed, as already noticed, by the Granadine war, as well as by the operations in Roussillon, but in part, also, to his habitual frugality, which, with a very different spirit from that of his illustrious consort, always stinted the measure of his supplies to the bare exigency of the occasion. Fortunately, the genius of the Great Captain was so fruitful in resources, as to supply every deficiency; enabling him to accomplish such brilliant results, as effectually concealed any poverty of preparation on the part of his master.

The Italian wars were of signal importance to the Spanish nation. Until that time, they had been cooped up within the narrow limits of the Peninsula, uninstructed and taking little interest in the concerns of the rest of Europe. A new world was now opened to them. They were taught to measure their own strength by collision with other powers on a common scene of action; and, success inspiring them with greater confidence, seemed to beckon them on towards the field, where they were destined to achieve still more splendid triumphs.

This war afforded them also a most useful lesson of tactics. The war of Granada had insensibly trained up a hardy militia, patient and capable of every privation and fatigue, and brought under strict subordination. This was a great advance beyond the independent and disorderly habits of the feudal service. A most valuable corps of light troops had been formed, schooled in all the wild, irregular movements of guerilla warfare. But the nation was still defective in that steady, well-disciplined infantry, which, in the improved condition of military science, seemed destined to decide the fate of battles in Europe thenceforward.

The Calabrian campaigns, which were suited in some degree to the display of their own tactics, fortunately gave the Spaniards opportunity for studying at leisure those of their adversaries. The lesson was not lost. Before the end of the war important innovations were made in the discipline and arms of the Spanish soldier. The Swiss pike, or lance, which, as has been already noticed, Gonsalvo de Cordova had mingled with the short sword of his own legions, now became the regular weapon of one- third of the infantry. The division of the various corps in the cavalry and infantry services was arranged on more scientific principles, and the whole, in short, completely reorganized. [11]

Before the end of the war, preparations were made for embodying a national militia, which should take the place of the ancient hermandad. Laws were passed regulating the equipment of every individual according to his property. A man's arms were declared not liable for debt, even to the crown; and smiths and other artificers were restricted, under severe penalties, from working them up into other articles. [12] In 1496, a census was taken of all persons capable of bearing arms; and by an ordinance, dated at Valladolid, February 22d, in the same year, it was provided that one out of every twelve inhabitants, between twenty and forty-five years of age, should be enlisted in the service of the state, whether for foreign war, or the suppression of disorders at home. The remaining eleven were liable to be called on in case of urgent necessity. These recruits were to be paid during actual service, and excused from taxes; the only legal exempts were the clergy, hidalgos, and paupers. A general review and inspection of arms were to take place every year, in the months of March and September, when prizes were to be awarded to those best accoutred, and most expert in the use of their weapons. Such were the judicious regulations by which every citizen, without being withdrawn from his regular occupation, was gradually trained up for the national defence; and which, without the oppressive incumbrance of a numerous standing army, placed the whole effective force of the country, prompt and fit for action, at the disposal of the government, whenever the public good should call for it. [13]

FOOTNOTES

[1] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 12-14; 16, 24.

Giovio says, in allusion to King Ferdinand's show of preparation on the frontier, "Ferdinandus, maxime cautus et pecuniae tenax, speciem ingentis coacti exercitus ad deterrendos hostes praebere, quam bellum gerere mallet, quum id sine ingenti pecunia administrari non posse intelligeret." Hist. sui Temporis, p. 140.

[2] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 35, 36.—Abarca, Reyes de Aragon, rey 30, cap. 9.—Garibay, Compendio, tom. ii. lib. 19, cap. 5.— Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 23.—Peter Martyr, Opus Epist., epist. 169.

[3] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, lib. 1, p. 221.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 30.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 1.— Villeneuve, Memoires, p. 317.

[4] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 222.—Quintana, Espanoles Celebres, tom. i. p. 234.

[5] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 222.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 1.—Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 175.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 30.

[6] Giovio, Vita Magni Gonsalvi, p. 223.—Chronica del Gran Capitan, cap. 31, 32.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 38.

[7] Comines says, with some naivete, in reference to the places in Naples which the Venetians had got into their possession, "Je croy que leur intention n'est point de les rendre; car ils ne l'ont point de coustume quand elles leur sont bienseantes comme sont cellescy, qui sont du coste de leur goufre de Venise." Memoires, p. 194.

[8] Guicciardini, Istoria, lib. 3, p. 178.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 44; lib. 3, cap. 13, 19, 21, 26.—Comines, Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 23.

[9] Comines gives some curious details respecting the French embassy, which he considers to have been completely outwitted by the superior management of the Spanish government; who intended nothing further at this time by the proposal of a division, than to amuse the French court until the fate of Naples should be decided. Memoires, liv. 8, chap. 23.

[10] Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 2, cap. 26, 33.—Mariana, Hist. de Espana, lib. 26, cap. 16.—Salazar de Mendoza, Monarquia, tom. i. lib. 3, cap. 10.

[11] Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. Ilust. 6.—Zurita, Hist. del Rey Hernando, lib. 3, cap. 6.

The ancient Spaniards, who were as noted as the modern for the temper and finish of their blades, used short swords, in the management of which they were very adroit. "Hispano," says Livy, "punctim magis, quam caesim, adsueto petere hostem, brevitate habiles [gladii] et cum macronibus." (Hist., lib. 22, cap. 47.) Sandoval notices the short sword, "cortas espadas," as the peculiar weapon of the Spanish soldier in the twelfth century. Historia de los Reyes de Castilla y de Leon, (Madrid, 1792,) tom. ii. p. 240.

[12] Pragmaticas del Reyno, fol. 83, 127, 129.

The former of these ordinances, dated Taracona, Sept. 18th, 1495, is extremely precise in specifying the appointments required for each individual.

Among other improvements, introduced somewhat earlier, may be mentioned that of organizing and thoroughly training a small corps of heavy-armed cavalry, amounting to twenty-five hundred. The number of men-at-arms had been greatly reduced in the kingdom of late years, in consequence of the exclusive demand for the ginetes in the Moorish war. Oviedo, Quincuagenas, MS.

Ordinances were also passed for encouraging the breed of horses, which had suffered greatly from the preference very generally given by the Spaniards to mules. This had been carried to such a length, that, while it was nearly impossible, according to Bernaldez, to mount ten or twelve thousand cavalry on horses, ten times that number could be provided with mules. (Reyes Catolicos, MS., cap. 184.) "E porque si a esto se diesse lugar," says one of the pragmaticas, adverting to this evil, "muy prestamente se perderia en nuestros reynos la nobleza de la cauelleria que en ellos suele auer, e se oluidaria el exercicio militar de que en los tiempos passados nuestra nacion de Espana ha alcancado gran fama e loor;" it was ordered that no person in the kingdom should be allowed to keep a mule, unless he owned a horse also; and that none but ecclesiastics and women should be allowed the use of mules in the saddle. These edicts were enforced with the utmost rigor, the king himself setting the example of conformity to them. By these seasonable precautions, the breed of Spanish horses, so long noted throughout Europe, was restored to its ancient credit, and the mule consigned to the humble and appropriate offices of drudgery, or raised only for exportation. For these and similar provisions, see Pragmaticas del Reyno, fol. 127-132.

Mateo Aleman's whimsical picaresco novel, Guzman d'Alfarache, contains a comic adventure, showing the excessive rigor with which the edict against mules was enforced, as late as the close of Philip II.'s reign. The passage is extracted in Roscoe's elegant version of the Spanish Novelists, Vol. I. p. 132.

[13] See a copy of the ordinance taken from the Archives of Simancas; apud Mem. de la Acad. de Hist., tom. vi. apend. 13.

When Francis I, who was destined to feel the effects of this careful military discipline, beheld, during his detention in Spain in the beginning of the following century, striplings with scarce down upon the chin, all armed with swords at their sides, he is said to have cried out, "O bienaventurada Espana, que pare y eria los hombres armados!" (L. Marineo, Cosas Memorables, lib. 5.) An exclamation not unworthy of a Napoleon,—or an Attila.