Confusion enough prevailed in the house of the Ordelaffi, who had taken a firm footing in Forli in the last decades of the thirteenth century, and at times ruled over Cesena. Albornoz had no worse opponent than Cecco (Francesco) Ordelaffi, whom only Venetian protection saved from complete ruin. His son Sinibaldo had returned by means of Florentine support in 1375 to Forli, where he fell, ten years later, a victim to a conspiracy of his two nephews. Antonio, the son of one of the latter, had joined the Florentines during the wars of the last Visconti in Romagna, and in 1441 they received him into their Accomandigia, and obtained for him the investiture of Forli from Pope Nicholas V. His two sons Cecco and Pino ruled at first together, but the latter in 1466 rid himself by violence of the former, who had been as bitter an enemy of Florence as Cecco was an ardent friend of the Republic. With the Manfredi too, who ruled in Faenza from 1314, there was nothing but quarrels and repeated changes of party. The towns of Faenza and Imola belonged in common to the different members of the family, and in such a manner that the eldest always conducted the government. But at the death of Guido Antonio, Taddeo Manfredi took possession of Imola in 1448, to the prejudice of his uncle Astorre, to whom the administration should have passed, and a contest arose which Pope Pius II., Francesco Sforza, and Florence tried to appease, without however procuring a real peace. Taddeo passed from one side to another, fought first in Florentine, then in Aragonese, and then again in Florentine pay. His uncle was not more constant. He had taken up arms for the Visconti in 1440, had been taken prisoner in the battle of Anghiari, and brought to Florence. Freed from prison, he had murdered him into whose power he had fallen in the battle at Bologna, for which Francesco Sforza set a price of a thousand gold florins on his head. Yet he succeeded in reconciling himself with the Republic, in whose service he fought against the Neapolitans in the Chiana valley in 1452. Florence had repeatedly concluded defensive alliances with both lines of the Manfredi since the year 1384. The Alidosi, once reigning in Imola, which they lost now to the Church, now to the Visconti, and now to the Manfredi, had been obliged to content themselves with the little Castel del Rio in the territory of Imola, towards the mountains, with which in 1392 they had joined the Florentine Accomandigia. A younger family had associated itself with these elder dynasties. Alessandro Sforza, brother of the Duke of Milan, had in 1445 acquired the lordship over Pesaro, by the cession of Galeazzo Malatesta, maternal grandfather of his wife Costanza da Varano, and maintained it under many changes of fortune. Pope Nicholas V. had invested him with the government; he had been an essential support to his brother in the contest for Milan, and he afterwards performed mercenary service for King Ferrante and for Venice.[144]
Among all the towns of this province, Bologna was the largest, richest, and most powerful, and would have been destined to exercise the greatest influence on the fate of Romagna, had not irreconcilable factions weakened her internally, and robbed her of the fruits of that heroic time in which she so gloriously conquered the Emperor Frederick II., and the lion of San Marco. The supremacy of the Church, which obtained greater authority here in proportion to the weakening of the civil constitutions of Lombardy and the bordering countries, was not able to suppress the factions which in 1337 brought the Pepoli to power, and thirteen years later gave the city into the hands of the Visconti, from whom Cardinal Albornoz wrested it after a possession of ten years. Even then the quarrels did not cease, which in the beginning of the fifteenth century brought the Visconti back again, who were again expelled by Cardinal Baldassar Cossa, to return a third time in 1438 and assume the position beside the Bentivogli (who had risen to the first rank among the contending native families) which belonged to the Popes. The evident endeavour of Filippo Maria Visconti to convert this relation into unlimited power, soon led to war. Supported by Florence and Venice, who fought here in their own cause as well as in that of Bologna, Annibale Bentivoglio completely defeated the Milanese army, August 14, 1443, on the plain of San Giorgio, only to fall two years afterwards beneath the dagger of murderers of high rank who were in league with the Duke. It was especially important for the Florentines not to let a party serviceable to their hereditary enemy rise to power in a city which they rightly regarded as a protection against the power of the Visconti. The members of the Bentivoglio family were, however, either too young, or not in a position, or not inclined to take the lead. Under these circumstances they hit upon a peculiar idea. The exiled Count of Poppi, Francesco da Guidi, then in Bologna, is said to have related that a cousin of Annibale Bentivoglio had had a love affair with a girl in the above mentioned castle of Casentino, and had a son who lived there with his maternal relatives. Cosimo de’ Medici, and, at his suggestion, Neri Capponi, who knew more about Casentino than anyone, took up the matter, and the end was that Sante, the nephew of Antonio da Cascese, was recognised as Sante Bentivoglio, waited upon in Florence most respectfully by deputies from Bologna, who escorted him to their city, where he succeeded in maintaining himself till his death by prudence, not unmixed with acts of violence towards his opponents.
As the Florentines had done the most in enabling Sante Bentivoglio to seize on the power, so they made it easier for him to preserve it. The Bolognese ambassadors had represented how the position of the city was such that they must throw themselves into the arms of the Duke of Milan if the Holy See did not deal mercifully with them. ‘Beg his Holiness,’ so wrote the Signoria on February 3, 1446, to their ambassador to Pope Eugenius IV., Paolo da Diaceto,[145] ‘to be gracious towards the poor Bolognese people, who have been so afflicted by oppression and misery, by fierce civil discord and strife, that it must move everyone to pity. The Bolognese hope from the gentleness of his Holiness, and the authority of the Republic of Venice, that it may be possible to discover some decent form of paying the Pope a reasonable tribute; but remaining otherwise in their present freedom, without Papal legates or other officers in the name of the Church. Do you make the observation that with people who are accustomed to bloodshed and full of suspicion, violence does not suffice; and that one must rather temporise in order to attain from them afterwards by love what violence cannot effect.’ So much, indeed, Bologna did not attain in the agreement concluded at Rome with Pope Nicholas V. on August 24, 1447, for she was obliged to receive a legate who shared the administration with the senate and the city magistrates. But the choice of these bodies was free; the city had its own militia and unrestricted power over its revenue, while the Papal troops were bound to protect her from foreign enemies. It is clear that such a relation might easily afford an opportunity for difficulties, and it is to be accounted a merit in Sante Bentivoglio that none arose under his government. When he died on October 1, 1463, his party appointed Giovanni, the son of Annibale and Donnina Visconti, then twenty years old, as his successor. By a treaty concluded with Pope Paul II. in 1466, the latter acquired a legal power such as none had had before him. This treaty secured him a seat and two votes in the Senate, which consisted almost entirely of his partisans and was renewed every six months, and thus placed him at the head of the citizens who, after Sante’s death, had already shown themselves so complaisant that they had conferred upon the youthful Giovanni the dignity of Gonfaloniere, to which only men of mature age could usually attain. By his marriage with Ginevra Sforza of Pesaro, Giovanni Bentivoglio entered into relationship with Milan, in which he hoped to gain some support against any hostility on the part of the Pope. That he held fast to his friendship with Florence was, to say nothing of the tradition of his predecessors, caused by his connections with Sforza. We have seen that it was he who gave Piero de’ Medici information of the unfriendly movements of Ercole d’Este.[146]
This was the state of Romagna when the country became the scene of warlike events. The Florentines had not ceased to negotiate with Venice, but in vain. Only by assuming that this Republic wished to fish in troubled waters can we find a key to the events of 1467. The last Visconti had accustomed his neighbours to his sending his condottiere upon them without declaration of war, under the pretext of dismissing them from his service. Venice had, however, not yet given so bad an example. There was a pretence of pacifying Bartolommeo Colleone, whose mercenary compact was expiring; but the condottiere must have known better the real intentions of the Signoria, for he would hardly have entered upon a daring undertaking had he feared their serious displeasure, instead of being certain of their opportune support, at least with money. When the Florentines saw that war was imminent, they concluded on January 4, 1467, at Rome and with Papal consent, the compact already mentioned with King Ferrante and the Duke of Milan. It was called ‘for the preservation of peace in Italy,’ and Venice acceded to it in due form; while Siena, Lucca, and the Margrave of Mantua were invited to join.[147] On the 18th, the alliance was proclaimed in Florence. An extraordinary tax of a hundred thousand gold florins was proclaimed to cover the first expenses of the war. In the preceding November the government had been already empowered by a special law passed in the Balia to enlist 1,500 horse and 500 foot, or, if necessary, twice as many; with power to raise extraordinary taxes, which excited violent complaints, as contrary to the freedom of the people and to good order,[148] for though they wished to be safe they did not like to pay. As the Duke of Milan had more troops than were necessary, two thousand of his cavalry were taken into pay. Donato Acciaiuoli had conducted the negotiations with Sforza. His cousin Agnolo was an exile, his sister-in-law a daughter of Diotisalvi Neroni; but his patriotism was trusted, and he deserved this confidence. Federigo of Montefeltro was appointed general-in-chief, and he accepted the offer, though Venice tried to turn him from it. Astorre and Taddeo Manfredi both took service with the Florentines. The Neapolitans, under the command of Napoleon Orsini, Count of Tagliacozza, crossed the Tronto in April, twelve squadrons of cavalry strong, and joined Federigo’s troops in Romagna.
On May 10, Bartolommeo Colleone crossed the Po. The lords of Mirandola and Carpi, Ercole of Este, and the Count Deifebo of Anguillara, who had been banished by the Pope, and was son of the old disturber of the environs of Rome, had joined him immediately. On his further march, the Ordelaffi of Forli and Alessandro Sforza of Pesaro came to him, the latter of whom, won over by Venice, opposed his own nephew; while Astorre Manfredi faithlessly turned his back upon Florence. Colleone’s army soon numbered 8,000 horse and 6,000 foot. Galeazzo Maria Visconti, persuaded by the representations of the Count of Urbino, now first set out with his troops and marched against the Count by way of Bologna, from whence men were sent to reinforce the allies. The general of the latter, now of equal strength with Colleone, would willingly have given battle; but he, on the one side, true to the old system of marches and counter-marches, avoided a decision, and on the other the presence of the Duke of Milan, whose experience did not equal his rank and claims, hindered the allied commander in his movements. At last Sforza was persuaded to visit Florence, and yield the command to Roberto da Sanseverino. Meanwhile the Count of Urbino attacked the enemy on July 25 at Molinella, in the territory of Imola. From a skirmish of the outposts of both armies a general battle arose, which was all the more bloody because light field-pieces were employed, and a Milanese troop of horse was enticed into an ambuscade; whereon, the Count, whose horse had been killed under him, commanded that no quarter should be given. The fight lasted for seven hours, in which, according to one of the lowest estimates, 300 men and 400 horses were killed—a great number for Italian warfare at that time. At nightfall they ceased to fight on Colleone’s proposal, and then the Count of Urbino and Alessandro Sforza, whose son Constanzo was amongst the prisoners, rode up to one another and shook hands.
The battle was, as we have said, undecided. The dread of the Venetians that their frontiers might be threatened—a dread which urged them to stir up Savoy and the Genoese exiles to make a diversion for the Duke of Milan, which was successful—shows on which side the advantage was. To this was added, that King Ferrante, however much he longed for peace, for which he exerted himself to the utmost by his ambassadors, voted for energetic continuance of the war in order to bring peace, and sent considerable reinforcements through his son Alfonso. Those reinforcements were indeed outweighed by the conduct of the Duke of Milan, who, discontented that a battle had taken place in his absence, returned home notwithstanding all warnings, and called his troops home to protect his own country. Galeazzo Maria has left a sad name in history; but that he did not lack political insight is shown by the representations he made to a Venetian ambassador travelling through Milan, in respect to the policy of the Republic. ‘You Venetians,’ he said, ‘who possess the most beautiful state in Italy, you are very wrong not to be contented with that, but to destroy your peace and that of your neighbours. If you knew how everyone is against you, your hair would stand on end, and you would leave all in peace. Do you suppose these Italian powers leagued against you really wish each other well? Not in the least. The necessity of protecting themselves against you has brought them together, and each one will do what it can to clip your wings. Do you think to have accomplished something grand by arming all Italy? Let others live! You have set everything in excitement by this Bartolommeo of yours; you will see how far it brings you profit. You have expended a quantity of money, and caused others great expense too; you preach peace and sow war. May you reap the result. At the death of my father, it seemed to me that a beautiful estate had fallen to me, and I thought of nothing but leading a pleasant life; you have obliged me to join King Ferrante, and to win my father’s principal adherents who I formerly did not know. The Pope who has sprung from your nobility will act more against you than all the rest; and if the war lasts, he will demand Faenza, Forli, Ravenna, and Cervia back again. The King of Naples is your declared enemy; and if his power equalled his evil intentions, it would go hardly with you. How Florence and Genoa are disposed towards you, you know, and it is not much better with the other Italian commonwealths. You throw your money away, and have nothing but disgrace from it; for it is said that, according to your custom, you wish to swallow everything. Now you are in pecuniary difficulties. I know with what pains you collect levies, and how your criers march through the whole town. I know that you have raised loans from banks and private persons which you will not be able to repay.’ (‘He spoke,’ adds the ambassador, ‘as if he had witnessed everything in Venice.’) ‘Ruling lords have one great advantage over republics—they act for themselves, and swiftly; while in these, the individual is always dependent on several. A Signor with fifty thousand ducats is worth more than a free State with a hundred thousand, because he can superintend the soldiers, and these act in his presence. It depends upon you to have peace or war. If you choose war, you will see all leagued against you, not only here, but beyond the mountains. Believe me, your enemies will not sleep. I know all that you have plotted against me with the Duke of Savoy and Fiesco, and the Archbishop of Genoa. I pray you, annoy no one: keep peace for your own advantage and that of Christendom.’[149]
Galeazzo Maria was right. His warning regarding foreigners referred to the French King, who directed a letter, written in an angry tone, to the Republic, saying that he knew of their machinations to disturb the peace, and entreating them not to cause the Duke of Milan any further annoyances in his territory, if they did not wish that he should regard their foes as his friends.[150] But Galeazzo Maria, on his side, had given Venice and Savoy much cause for suspicion and complaints, planning even then an attack upon Vercelli, the possession of which he had been promised at his marriage by King Louis XI. as dowry.[151] So stood it then with Italian affairs and Italian princes. The Venetians, moreover, relied on the want of harmony among the allies, which the Duke could not deny. None trusted the other. It was the Florentines who principally held the league together. However much King Ferrante wished to agree with Piero de’ Medici, and whatever the Republic might effect through her financial connections, she was yet too weak in military matters to exercise preponderating influence. Between the King and Sforza distrust and aversion prevailed, and Ferrante said repeatedly that he suspected a separate peace with the enemy, in which he was not deceived. The Pope said neither Yes nor No. He had entered the league, but entrance into the league did not imply fulfilment of the stipulations. He wished to free Romagna from the war that desolated the country, but he had no inclination to make overtures to Venice, his native country; always put the tardiness of the Neapolitan’s movements forward as a pretext; wished for peace after the battle of La Molinella, especially because he feared being drawn into the thick of the contest by the allies, and wished to prescribe the conditions of this peace, while he really did so little to bring it about. But beside this, the war had displayed more than any other the defects of the Italian armies, and from this point of view it deserves more attention than it would otherwise claim. When we consider that the two most famous generals of Italy at that day, Federigo of Urbino and Bartolommeo, stood at the head of a considerable army; that a Duke of Milan and Crown Prince of Naples were there; that the lords of Lombardy and Romagna, who passed their lives in arms, and the best Neapolitan warriors, the Sanseverini, Orsini, Davalos, &c., were in the field; when we consider, on the other hand, the miserable results of this eight months’ campaign, we shall anticipate the approaching complete decline of that system of war which Alberigo da Barbiano had inaugurated a century before, and which had passed through many glorious days of military art and valour, although an evil lay in the very existence of mercenary troops from which other countries had to suffer.
The Neapolitan troops were certainly not among the worst, and had practised leaders. And yet how did they prosper? Even before they had marched out, there were the most unfavourable opinions as to their quality and discipline. ‘When you hear from ill-wishers,’ wrote the King on February 10, 1467, to one of his agents, ‘that our soldiers will run away as soon as they have passed the frontiers, you must not heed this, for, with God’s assistance, we hope to send them out in such excellence and order, that they would rather attract others than go over to them.’ But the result did not correspond with the expectation of the monarch, who, however, devoted untiring care to military affairs. The Duke of Calabria employed three months in crossing the Tronto and dragging his army through Tuscany and Umbria, while the enemy was in the heart of Romagna. The militia dispersed without fighting. ‘It grieves my very soul,’ wrote the King on August 1, ‘this flight of a part of our men-at-arms. But as the fault lies in their badness and cowardice, and not in the treatment they had experienced from us, we will bear it more easily.’ And on January 15, 1468, during the truce: ‘Most of the soldiers leave the camp and return home, which does not promote the general good, and is highly displeasing to us.’ The Duke of Calabria was amusing himself in the meantime in Florence and Milan, whither his consort had gone to sweeten for him the hard campaign, in which he never faced the foe. With the money advanced by the Florentine banks, those of the Medici, Strozzi, Gondi, &c., the desertion of the enemy’s horse and foot was purchased, while the Neapolitans, as they remained without pay, acted in friendly countries, in the districts of Arezzo and Cortona, as if they had to do with their enemies.
Besides Louis XI., another foreign sovereign tried to put a stop to a war so prejudicial to the common Christian interest in a moment when the progress of the Turks menaced both Italy and the Danubian provinces. It was Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary, who sent George Hasznoz, afterwards Archbishop of Colocza to Venice, in order to bring about an arrangement.[152] The Hungarian envoy, getting nothing but empty words, went to Colleone’s camp, and meeting there with the same ill-success, proceeded to Florence and Rome, to give an account of his negotiation. More than six months had passed since the day of La Molinella in useless marching and treating, in the midst of mutual reproaches and quarrelling. Tommaso Soderini at Venice, Otto Niccolini in Rome, acted with zeal and ability as Florentine ambassadors; the Marquis of Ferrara did his best as mediator; Florence itself had made many efforts, but in vain. At last, on Candlemas day 1468, Pope Paul II. proclaimed peace in the church of Sta. Maria Araceli, on the Capitol. The existing league, including Venice, was to be renewed. Bartolommeo Colleone was to be sent to Albania to fight the Turks, with an annual salary of 100,000 gold florins as captain-general, after resigning the places in the Romagna held garrisoned by him. He had, besides, demanded thrice the sum as compensation for the expenses of a war which he had himself begun! King Ferrante protested four days later; shortly before, he had declared he would do the Holy Father’s pleasure in everything reasonable, but he would rather lose everything than give Colleone a farthing. Galeazzo Maria was of the same opinion; he said his money should not serve for an attack upon his state. The Florentines seemed to have most wished to come to terms, and were much disturbed when the King, Sforza, and Venice took up arms again. Finally, the Marquis of Ferrara succeeded in reconciling the parties, though Pope Paul was very angry; and on April 25 the definitive peace was proclaimed at Rome, and two days later at Florence, in which Colleone was not mentioned, and every one was to receive his own again. In Florence the peace was solemnised by church festivals and illuminations. Bartolommeo Colleone, then seventy-five years old, but still in full strength, did not go to Albania, where the death of Scanderbeg, which had happened in the February of the same year, 1468, would have made a valiant general necessary, if the tactics of Italian condottieri had been suitable for such a land and such an enemy. A throne such as the Florentine exiles had placed in his view, he certainly was as far from obtaining as he was from reaping laurels in his last campaigns. But he enjoyed for seven years longer the highest honours paid to him by the Republic of Venice and foreign and Italian princes, in his castle, where he died February 1, 1475, having made a use of his colossal fortune which more honoured him than many of the means by which it had been brought together.