CHAPTER XI.
ITALIAN WARS.—RUPTURE WITH FRANCE.—GONSALVO BESIEGED IN BARLETA.
1502, 1503.
Rupture between the French and Spaniards.—Gonsalvo Retires to Barleta.—
Chivalrous Character of the War.—Tourney near Trani.—Duel between Bayard
and Sotomayor.—Distress of Barleta.—Constancy of the Spaniards.
—Gonsalvo Storms and Takes Ruvo.—Prepares to Leave Barleta.
It was hardly to be expected that the partition treaty between France and Spain, made so manifestly in contempt of all good faith, would be maintained any longer than suited the convenience of the respective parties. The French monarch, indeed, seems to have prepared, from the first, to dispense with it, as soon as he had secured his own moiety of the kingdom; [1] and sagacious men at the Spanish court inferred that King Ferdinand would do as much, when he should be in a situation to assert his claims with success. [2]
It was altogether improbable, whatever might be the good faith of the parties, that an arrangement could long subsist, which so rudely rent asunder the members of this ancient monarchy; or that a thousand points of collision should not arise between rival hosts, lying as it were on their arms within bowshot of each other, and in view of the rich spoil which each regarded as its own. Such grounds for rupture did occur, sooner probably than either party had foreseen, and certainly before the king of Aragon was prepared to meet it.
The immediate cause was the extremely loose language of the partition treaty, which assumed such a geographical division of the kingdom into four provinces, as did not correspond with any ancient division, and still less with the modern, by which the number was multiplied to twelve. [3] The central portion, comprehending the Capitanate, the Basilicate, and the Principality, became debatable ground between the parties, each of whom insisted on these as forming an integral part of its own moiety. The French had no ground whatever for contesting the possession of the Capitanate, the first of these provinces, and by far the most important, on account of the tolls paid by the numerous flocks which descended every winter into its sheltered valleys from the snow-covered mountains of Abruzzo. [4] There was more uncertainty to which of the parties the two other provinces were meant to be assigned. It is scarcely possible that language so loose, in a matter requiring mathematical precision, should have been unintentional.
Before Gonsalvo de Cordova had completed the conquest of the southern moiety of the kingdom, and while lying before Tarento, he received intelligence of the occupation by the French of several places, both in the Capitanate and Basilicate. He detached a body of troops for the protection of these countries, and, after the surrender of Tarento, marched towards the north to cover them with his whole army. As he was not in a condition for immediate hostilities, however, he entered into negotiations, which, if attended with no other advantage, would at least gain him time. [5]
The pretensions of the two parties, as might have been expected, were too irreconcilable to admit of compromise; and a personal conference between the respective commanders-in-chief led to no better arrangement, than that each should retain his present acquisitions, till explicit instructions could be received from their respective courts.
But neither of the two monarchs had further instructions to give; and the Catholic king contented himself with admonishing his general to postpone an open rupture as long as possible, that the government might have time to provide more effectually for his support, and strengthen itself by alliance with other European powers. But, however pacific may have been the disposition of the generals, they had no power to control the passions of their soldiers, who, thus brought into immediate contact, glared on each other with the ferocity of bloodhounds, ready to slip the leash which held them in temporary check. Hostilities soon broke out along the lines of the two armies, the blame of which each nation charged on its opponent. There seems good ground, however, for imputing it to the French; since they were altogether better prepared for war than the Spaniards, and entered into it so heartily as not only to assail places in the debatable ground, but in Apulia, which had been unequivocally assigned to their rivals. [6]
In the mean while, the Spanish court fruitlessly endeavored to interest the other powers of Europe in its cause. The emperor Maximilian, although dissatisfied with the occupation of Milan by the French, appeared wholly engrossed with the frivolous ambition of a Roman coronation. The pontiff and his son, Caesar Borgia, were closely bound to King Louis by the assistance which he had rendered them in their marauding enterprises against the neighboring chiefs of Romagna. The other Italian princes, although deeply incensed and disgusted by this infamous alliance, stood too much in awe of the colossal power, which had planted its foot so firmly on their territory, to offer any resistance. Venice alone, surveying from her distant watch-tower, to borrow the words of Peter Martyr, the whole extent of the political horizon, appeared to hesitate. The French ambassadors loudly called on her to fulfil the terms of her late treaty with their master, and support him in his approaching quarrel; but that wily republic saw with distrust the encroaching ambition of her powerful neighbor, and secretly wished that a counterpoise might be found in the success of Aragon. Martyr, who stopped at Venice on his return from Egypt, appeared before the senate, and employed all his eloquence in supporting his master's cause in opposition to the French envoys; but his pressing entreaties to the Spanish sovereigns to send thither some competent person, as a resident minister, show his own conviction of the critical position in which their affairs stood. [7]
The letters of the same intelligent individual, during his journey through the Milanese, [8] are filled with the most gloomy forebodings of the termination of a contest for which the Spaniards were so indifferently provided; while the whole north of Italy was alive with the bustling preparations of the French, who loudly vaunted their intention of driving their enemy not merely out of Naples, but Sicily itself. [9]
Louis the Twelfth superintended these preparations in person, and, to be near the theatre of operations, crossed the Alps, and took up his quarters at Asti. At length, all being in readiness, he brought things to an immediate issue, by commanding his general to proclaim war at once against the Spaniards, unless they abandoned the Capitanate in four-and-twenty hours. [10]
The French forces in Naples amounted, according to their own statements, to one thousand men-at-arms, three thousand five hundred French and Lombard, and three thousand Swiss infantry, in addition to the Neapolitan levies raised by the Angevin lords throughout the kingdom. The command was intrusted to the duke of Nemours, a brave and chivalrous young nobleman of the ancient house of Armagnac, whom family connections more than talents had raised to the perilous post of viceroy over the head of the veteran D'Aubigny. The latter would have thrown up his commission in disgust, but for the remonstrances of his sovereign, who prevailed on him to remain where his counsels were more than ever necessary to supply the inexperience of the young commander. The jealousy and wilfulness of the latter, however, defeated these intentions; and the misunderstanding of the chiefs, extending to their followers, led to a fatal want of concert in their movements.
With these officers were united some of the best and bravest of the French chivalry; among whom may be noticed Jacques de Chabannes, more commonly known as the Sire de la Palice, a favorite of Louis the Twelfth, and well entitled to be so by his deserts; Louis d'Ars; Ives d'Alègre, brother of the Précy who gained so much renown in the wars of Charles the Eighth; and Pierre de Bayard, the knight "sans peur et sans reproche," who was then entering on the honorable career in which he seemed to realize all the imaginary perfections of chivalry. [11]
Notwithstanding the small numbers of the French force, the Great Captain was in no condition to cope with them. He had received no reinforcements from home since he first landed in Calabria. His little corps of veterans was destitute of proper clothing and equipments, and the large arrears due them made the tenure of their obedience extremely precarious. [12] Since affairs began to assume their present menacing aspect, he had been busily occupied with drawing together the detachments posted in various parts of Calabria, and concentrating them on the town of Atella in the Basilicate, where he had established his own quarters. He had also opened a correspondence with the barons of the Aragonese faction, who were most numerous as well as most powerful in the northern section of the kingdom, which had been assigned to the French. He was particularly fortunate in gaining over the two Colonnas, whose authority, powerful connections, and large military experience proved of inestimable value to him. [13]
With all the resources he could command, however, Gonsalvo found himself, as before noticed, unequal to the contest, though it was impossible to defer it, after the peremptory summons of the French viceroy to surrender the Capitanate. To this he unhesitatingly answered, that "the Capitanate belonged of right to his own master; and that, with the blessing of God, he would make good its defence against the French king, or any other who should invade it."
Notwithstanding the bold front put on his affairs, however, he did not choose to abide the assault of the French in his present position. He instantly drew off with the greater part of his force to Barleta, a fortified seaport on the confines of Apulia, on the Adriatic, the situation of which would enable him either to receive supplies from abroad, or to effect a retreat, if necessary, on board the Spanish fleet, which still kept the coast of Calabria. The remainder of his army he distributed in Bari, Andria, Canosa, and other adjacent towns; where he confidently hoped to maintain himself till the arrival of reinforcements, which he solicited in the most pressing manner from Spain and Sicily, should enable him to take the field on more equal terms against his adversary. [14]
The French officers, in the mean time, were divided in opinion as to the best mode of conducting the war. Some were for besieging Bari, held by the illustrious and unfortunate Isabella of Aragon; [15] others, in a more chivalrous spirit, opposed the attack of a place defended by a female, and advised an immediate assault on Barleta itself, whose old and dilapidated works might easily be forced, if it did not at once surrender. The duke of Nemours, deciding on a middle course, determined to invest the last- mentioned town; and, cutting off all communication with the surrounding country, to reduce it by regular blockade. This plan was unquestionably the least eligible of all, as it would allow time for the enthusiasm of the French, the furia Francese, as it was called in Italy, which carried them victorious over so many obstacles, to evaporate, while it brought into play the stern resolve, the calm, unflinching endurance, which distinguished the Spanish soldier. [16]
One of the first operations of the French viceroy was the siege of Canosa, a strongly fortified place west of Barleta, garrisoned by six hundred picked men under the engineer Pedro Navarro. The defence of the place justified the reputation of this gallant soldier. He beat off two successive assaults of the enemy, led on by Bayard, La Palice, and the flower of their chivalry. He had prepared to sustain a third, resolved to bury himself under the ruins of the town rather than surrender. But Gonsalvo, unable to relieve it, commanded him to make the best terms he could, saying, "the place was of far less value, than the lives of the brave men who defended it." Navarro found no difficulty in obtaining an honorable capitulation; and the little garrison, dwindled to one-third of its original number, marched out through the enemy's camp, with colors flying and music playing, as if in derision of the powerful force it had so nobly kept at bay. [17]
After the capture of Canosa, D'Aubigny, whose misunderstanding with Nemours still continued, was despatched with a small force into the south, to overrun the two Calabrias. The viceroy, in the mean while, having fruitlessly attempted the reduction of several strong places held by the Spaniards in the neighborhood of Barleta, endeavored to straiten the garrison there by desolating the surrounding country, and sweeping off the flocks and herds which grazed in its fertile pastures. The Spaniards, however, did not remain idle within their defences, but, sallying out in small detachments, occasionally retrieved the spoil from the hands of the enemy, or annoyed him with desultory attacks, ambuscades, and other irregular movements of guerrilla warfare, in which the French were comparatively unpractised. [18]
The war now began to assume many of the romantic features of that of Granada. The knights on both sides, not content with the usual military rencontres, defied one another to jousts and tourneys, eager to establish their prowess in the noble exercises of chivalry. One of the most remarkable of these meetings took place between eleven Spanish and as many French knights, in consequence of some disparaging remarks of the latter on the cavalry of their enemies, which they affirmed inferior to their own. The Venetians gave the parties a fair field of combat in the neutral territory under their own walls of Trani. A gallant array of well-armed knights of both nations guarded the lists, and maintained the order of the fight. On the appointed day, the champions appeared in the field, armed at all points, with horses richly caparisoned, and barbed or covered with steel panoply like their masters. The roofs and battlements of Trani were covered with spectators, while the lists were thronged with the French and Spanish chivalry, each staking in some degree the national honor on the issue of the contest. Among the Castilians were Diego de Paredes and Diego de Vera, while the good knight Bayard was most conspicuous on the other side.
As the trumpets sounded the appointed signal, the hostile parties rushed to the encounter. Three Spaniards were borne from their saddles by the rudeness of the shock, and four of their antagonists' horses slain. The fight, which began at ten in the morning, was not to be protracted beyond sunset. Long before that hour, all the French save two, one of them the chevalier Bayard, had been dismounted, and their horses, at which the Spaniards had aimed more than at the riders, disabled or slain. The Spaniards, seven of whom were still on horseback, pressed hard on their adversaries, leaving little doubt of the fortune of the day. The latter, however, intrenching themselves behind the carcasses of their dead horses, made good their defence against the Spaniards, who in vain tried to spur their terrified steeds over the barrier. In this way the fight was protracted till sunset; and, as both parties continued to keep possession of the field, the palm of victory was adjudged to neither, while both were pronounced to have demeaned themselves like good and valiant knights. [19]
The tourney being ended, the combatants met in the centre of the lists, and embraced each other in the true companionship of chivalry, "making good cheer together," says an old chronicler, before they separated. The Great Captain was not satisfied with the issue of the fight. "We have, at least," said one of his champions, "disproved the taunt of the Frenchmen, and shown ourselves as good horsemen as they." "I sent you for better," coldly retorted Gonsalvo. [20]
A more tragic termination befell a combat à l'outrance between the chevalier Bayard and a Spanish cavalier, named Alonso de Sotomayor, who had accused the former of uncourteous treatment of him, while his prisoner. Bayard denied the charge, and defied the Spaniard to prove it in single fight, on horse or on foot, as he best liked. Sotomayor, aware of his antagonist's uncommon horsemanship, preferred the latter alternative.
At the day and hour appointed, the two knights entered the lists, armed with sword and dagger, and sheathed in complete harness; although, with a degree of temerity unusual in these, combats, they wore their visors up. Both combatants knelt down in silent prayer for a few moments, and then rising and crossing themselves, advanced straight against each other; "the good knight Bayard," says Brantôme, "moving as light of step, as if he were going to lead some fair lady down the dance."
The Spaniard was of a large and powerful frame, and endeavored to crush his enemy by weight of blows, or to close with him and bring him to the ground. The latter, naturally inferior in strength, was rendered still weaker by a fever, from which he had not entirely recovered. He was more light and agile than his adversary, however, and superior dexterity enabled him not only to parry his enemy's strokes, but to deal him occasionally one of his own, while he sorely distressed him by the rapidity of his movements. At length, as the Spaniard was somewhat thrown off his balance by an ill-directed blow, Bayard struck him so sharply on the gorget, that it gave way, and the sword entered his throat. Furious with the agony of the wound, Sotomayor collected all his strength for the last struggle, and, grasping his antagonist in his arms, they both rolled in the dust together. Before either could extricate himself, the quick- eyed Bayard, who had retained his poniard in his left hand during the whole combat, while the Spaniard's had remained in his belt, drove the steel with such convulsive strength under his enemy's eye, that it pierced quite through the brain. After the judges had awarded the honors of the day to Bayard, the minstrels as usual began to pour forth triumphant strains in praise of the victor; but the good knight commanded them to desist, and, having first prostrated himself on his knees in gratitude for his victory, walked slowly out of the lists, expressing a wish that the combat had had a different termination, so that his honor had been saved. [2]
In these jousts and tourneys, described with sufficient prolixity, but in a truly heart-stirring tone, by the chroniclers of the day, we may discern the last gleam of the light of chivalry, which illumined the darkness of the Middle Ages; and, although rough in comparison with the pastimes of more polished times, they called forth such displays of magnificence, courtesy, and knightly honor, as throw something like the grace of civilization over the ferocious features of the age.
While the Spaniards, cooped up within the old town of Barleta, sought to vary the monotony of their existence by these chivalrous exercises, or an occasional foray into the neighboring country, they suffered greatly from the want of military stores, food, clothing, and the most common necessaries of life. It seemed as if their master had abandoned them to their fate on this forlorn outpost, without a struggle in their behalf. [22] How different from the parental care with which Isabella watched over the welfare of her soldiers in the long war of Granada! The queen appears to have taken no part in the management of these wars, which, notwithstanding the number of her own immediate subjects embarked in them, she probably regarded, from the first, as appertaining to Aragon, as exclusively as the conquests in the New World did to Castile. Indeed, whatever degree of interest she may have felt in their success, the declining state of her health at this period would not have allowed her to take any part in the conduct of them.
Gonsalvo was not wanting to himself in this trying emergency, and his noble spirit seemed to rise as all outward and visible resources failed. He cheered his troops with promises of speedy relief, talking confidently of the supplies of grain he expected from Sicily, and the men and money he was to receive from Spain and Venice. He contrived, too, says Giovio, that a report should get abroad, that a ponderous coffer lying in his apartment was filled with gold, which he could draw upon in the last extremity. The old campaigners, indeed, according to the same authority, shook their heads at these and other agreeable fictions of their general, with a very skeptical air. They derived some confirmation, however, from the arrival soon after of a Sicilian bark, laden with corn, and another from Venice with various serviceable stores and wearing apparel, which Gonsalvo bought on his own credit and that of his principal officers, and distributed gratuitously among his destitute soldiers. [23]
At this time he received the unwelcome tidings that a small force which had been sent from Spain to his assistance, under Don Manuel de Benavides, and which had effected a junction with one much larger from Sicily under Hugo de Cardona, was surprised by D'Aubigny near Terranova, and totally defeated. This disaster was followed by the reduction of all Calabria, which the latter general, at the head of his French and Scottish gendarmerie, rode over from one extremity to the other without opposition. [24]
The prospect now grew darker and darker around the little garrison of Barleta. The discomfiture of Benavides excluded hopes of relief in that direction. The gradual occupation of most of the strong places in Apulia by the duke of Nemours cut off all communication with the neighboring country; and a French fleet cruising in the Adriatic rendered the arrival of further stores and reinforcements extremely precarious. Gonsalvo, however, maintained the same unruffled cheerfulness as before, and endeavored to infuse it into the hearts of others. He perfectly understood the character of his countrymen, knew all their resources, and tried to rouse every latent principle of honor, loyalty, pride, and national feeling; and such was the authority which he acquired over their minds, and so deep the affection which he inspired, by the amenity of his manners and the generosity of his disposition, that not a murmur or symptom of insubordination escaped them during the whole of this long and painful siege. But neither the excellence of his troops, nor the resources of his own genius, would have been sufficient to extricate Gonsalvo from the difficulties of his situation, without the most flagrant errors on the part of his opponent. The Spanish general, who understood the character of the French commander perfectly well, lay patiently awaiting his opportunity, like a skilful fencer, ready to make a decisive thrust at the first vulnerable point that should be presented. Such an occasion at length offered itself early in the following year. [25]
The French, no less weary than their adversaries of their long inaction, sallied out from Canosa, where the viceroy had established his headquarters, and, crossing the Ofanto, marched up directly under the walls of Barleta, with the intention of drawing out the garrison from the "old den," as they called it, and deciding the quarrel in a pitched battle. The duke of Nemours, accordingly, having taken up his position, sent a trumpet into the place to defy the Great Captain to the encounter; but the latter returned for answer, that "he was accustomed to choose his own place and time for fighting, and would thank the French general to wait till his men found time to shoe their horses, and burnish up their arms." At length, Nemours, after remaining some days, and finding there was no chance of decoying his wily foe from his defences, broke up his camp and retired, satisfied with the empty honors of his gasconade.
No sooner had he fairly turned his back, than Gonsalvo, whose soldiers had been restrained with difficulty from sallying out on their insolent foe, ordered the whole strength of his cavalry under the command of Diego de Mendoza, flanked by two corps of infantry, to issue forth and pursue the French. Mendoza executed these orders so promptly that he brought up his horse, which were somewhat in advance of the foot, on the rear-guard of the French, before it had got many miles from Barleta. The latter instantly halted to receive the charge of the Spaniards, and, after a lively skirmish of no great duration, Mendoza retreated, followed by the incautious enemy, who, in consequence of their irregular and straggling march, were detached from the main body of their army. In the mean time, the advancing columns of the Spanish infantry, which had now come up with the retreating horse, unexpectedly closing on the enemy's flanks, threw them into some disorder, which became complete when the flying cavalry of the Spaniards, suddenly wheeling round in the rapid style of the Moorish tactics, charged them boldly in front. All was now confusion. Some made resistance, but most sought only to escape; a few effected it, but the greater part of those who did not fall on the field were carried prisoners to Barleta; where Mendoza found the Great Captain with his whole army drawn up under the walls in order of battle, ready to support him in person, if necessary. The whole affair passed so expeditiously, that the viceroy, who, as has been said, conducted his retreat in a most disorderly manner, and in fact had already dispersed several battalions of his infantry to the different towns from which he had drawn them, knew nothing of the rencontre, till his men were securely lodged within the walls of Barleta. [26]
The arrival of a Venetian trader at this time, with a cargo of grain, brought temporary relief to the pressing necessities of the garrison. [27] This was followed by the welcome intelligence of the total discomfiture of the French fleet under M. de Préjan by the Spanish admiral Lezcano, in an action off Otranto, which consequently left the seas open for the supplies daily expected from Sicily. Fortune seemed now in the giving vein; for in a few days a convoy of seven transports from that island, laden with grain, meat, and other stores, came safe into Barleta, and supplied abundant means for recruiting the health and spirits of its famished inmates. [28]
Thus restored, the Spaniards began to look forward with eager confidence to the achievement of some new enterprise. The temerity of the viceroy soon afforded an opportunity. The people of Castellaneta, a town near Tarento, were driven by the insolent and licentious behavior of the French garrison to betray the place into the hands of the Spaniards. The duke of Nemours, enraged at this defection, prepared to march at once with his whole force, and take signal vengeance on the devoted little town; and this, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his officers against a step which must inevitably expose the unprotected garrisons in the neighborhood to the assault of their vigilant enemy in Barleta. The event justified these apprehensions. [29]
No sooner had Gonsalvo learned the departure of Nemours on a distant expedition, than he resolved at once to make an attack on the town of Ruvo, about twelve miles distant, and defended by the brave La Palice, with a corps of three hundred French lances, and as many foot. With his usual promptness, the Spanish general quitted the walls of Barleta the same night on which he received the news, taking with him his whole effective force, amounting to about three thousand infantry and one thousand light and heavy-armed horse. So few, indeed, remained to guard the city, that he thought it prudent to take some of the principal inhabitants as hostages to insure its fidelity in his absence.
At break of day, the little army arrived before Ruvo. Gonsalvo immediately opened a lively cannonade on the old ramparts, which in less than four hours effected a considerable breach. He then led his men to the assault, taking charge himself of those who were to storm the breach, while another division, armed with ladders for scaling the walls, was intrusted to the adventurous cavalier Diego de Paredes.
The assailants experienced more resolute resistance than they had anticipated from the inconsiderable number of the garrison. La Palice, throwing himself into the breach with his iron band of dismounted gendarmes, drove back the Spaniards as often as they attempted to set foot on the broken ramparts; while the Gascon archery showered down volleys of arrows thick as hail, from the battlements, on the exposed persons of the assailants. The latter, however, soon rallied under the eye of their general, and returned with fresh fury to the charge, until the overwhelming tide of numbers bore down all opposition, and they poured in through the breach and over the walls with irresistible fury. The brave little garrison were driven before them; still, however, occasionally making fight in the streets and houses. Their intrepid young commander, La Palice, retreated facing the enemy, who pressed thick and close upon him, till, his further progress being arrested by a wall, he placed his back against it, and kept them at bay, making a wide circle around him with the deadly sweep of his battle-axe. But the odds were too much for him; and at length, after repeated wounds, having been brought to the ground by a deep cut in the head, he was made prisoner; not, however, before he had flung his sword far over the heads of the assailants, disdaining, in the true spirit of a knight-errant, to yield it to the rabble around him. [30]
All resistance was now at an end. The women of the place had fled, like so many frightened deer, to one of the principal churches; and Gonsalvo, with more humanity than was usual in these barbarous wars, placed a guard over their persons, which effectually secured them from the insults of the soldiery. After a short time spent in gathering up the booty and securing his prisoners, the Spanish general, having achieved the object of his expedition, set out on his homeward march, and arrived without interruption at Barleta.
The duke of Nemours had scarcely appeared before Castellaneta, before he received tidings of the attack on Ruvo. He put himself, without losing a moment, at the head of his gendarmes, supported by the Swiss pikemen, hoping to reach the beleaguered town in time to raise the siege. Great was his astonishment, therefore, on arriving before it, to find no trace of an enemy, except the ensigns of Spain unfurled from the deserted battlements. Mortified and dejected, be made no further attempt to recover Castellaneta, but silently drew off to hide his chagrin in the walls of Canosa. [31]
Among the prisoners were several persons of distinguished rank. Gonsalvo treated them with his usual courtesy, and especially La Palice, whom he provided with his own surgeon and all the appliances for rendering his situation as comfortable as possible. For the common file, however, he showed no such sympathy; but condemned them all to serve in the Spanish admiral's galleys, where they continued to the close of the campaign. An unfortunate misunderstanding had long subsisted between the French and Spanish commanders respecting the ransom and exchange of prisoners; and Gonsalvo was probably led to this severe measure, so different from his usual clemency, by an unwillingness to encumber himself with a superfluous population in the besieged city. [32] But, in truth, such a proceeding, however offensive to humanity, was not at all repugnant to the haughty spirit of chivalry, which, reserving its courtesies exclusively for those of gentle blood and high degree, cared little for the inferior orders, whether soldier or peasant, whom it abandoned without remorse to all the caprices and cruelties of military license.
The capture of Ruvo was attended with important consequences to the Spaniards. Besides the valuable booty of clothes, jewels, and money, they brought back with them nearly a thousand horses, which furnished Gonsalvo with the means of augmenting his cavalry, the small number of which had hitherto materially crippled his operations. He accordingly selected seven hundred of his best troops and mounted them on the French horses; thus providing himself with a corps, burning with zeal to approve itself worthy of the distinguished honor conferred on it. [33]
A few weeks after, the general received an important accession of strength from the arrival of two thousand German mercenaries, which Don Juan Manuel, the Spanish minister at the Austrian court, had been permitted to raise in the emperor's dominions. This event determined the Great Captain on a step which he had been some time meditating. The new levies placed him in a condition for assuming the offensive. His stock of provisions, moreover, already much reduced, would be obviously insufficient long to maintain his increased numbers. He resolved, therefore, to sally out of the old walls of Barleta, and, availing himself of the high spirits in which the late successes had put his troops, to bring the enemy at once to battle. [34]