If Sixtus IV. found allies, his opponents did not lack them either. In the foremost ranks were Venice and Milan. The Republic had already, on April 28, despatched a letter of condolence to Florence,[247] at the same time announcing that they had immediately resolved upon decisive measures if necessary, in concert with the ambassadors from Milan and Ferrara. Giovanni Emo arrived in Florence with the commission, to confirm these friendly intentions and inform himself of the position of affairs. Serious representations were made in Rome, first in order to hinder the Pope from giving free course to his rage against the Florentines; and, secondly, in order to persuade him to retract the bull. When both failed, the Republic assumed a decided tone of command. ‘Because his Holiness,’ so she wrote to her ambassador, ‘on the urging of others, and to satisfy their unjust demands, attacks the Florentines with spiritual and temporal weapons, we wish that the Holy Father should know that we, of one accord with them, and the state of Milan, will defend the possessions, honour, and dignity of our ally in spiritual and temporal things. The Holy Father must not flatter himself he can conceal the purpose of his evil thoughts by asserting that he does not fight against Florence only, but against Lorenzo personally, for we all know perfectly well that this attack is not only upon Lorenzo, who is entirely innocent of the false accusations heaped upon him, but the present form of government in Florence, which they wish to overthrow, and change according to their will, with the whole of Italy. We wish, also, that the Holy Father should be assured henceforth that if he does not recall the ban, and refrain from warlike preparations, but continues his attack, we three will recall our ambassadors, and take such measures that he shall soon perceive that we have said the truth respecting our intentions, and that whoever causes him to take hostile steps deceives him in order to make him the instrument of views which are in themselves shameful and dangerous to the States of the Church, and especially to his Holiness.’[248] That the duchess-regent of Milan, guided by Simonetta, in whom the tradition of Francesco Sforza’s policy lived, acted in concert with Venice, is proved by this declaration. On the side of Savoy there was as little to fear as from Ferrara, for although the duke was son-in-law of the King of Naples, he was yet entirely powerless in the presence of his neighbour, even if he had intended to obey Ferrante. Thus it stood with Upper Italy. Abroad the Florentines could likewise count on allies; the most important of whom, if not in reference to actual assistance, yet on account of his position, was the French king.
We have remarked before upon the intimate connections of Louis XI. with Florence and the Medici. But it was not only the wish to preserve connections which were beneficial to his country which induced the king to take the side of the Republic. The strange mixture of bigotry and gross superstition with extreme contempt for the persons connected with the Church, even her highest dignitaries, which certainly never existed in such a degree as with this prince, are here revealed. The man who had faith in amulets and portable altars, who, as the Bishop de Seyssel informs us in his panegyric, knelt from time to time before lead and tin figures of the Madonna fastened to the brim of his hat, so that the people thought him mad, allowed the disputes of his clergy to grow to a schism when he found them opposed to his projects, or thought them connected with the attempts at conspiracy by which he constantly believed himself threatened. Wherever his authority was questioned, he regarded the Pope and clergy as hostile powers, and their conduct unfortunately often added strength to such views. When he confined the Cardinal La Balue in an iron cage, which still may be seen in the castle of Loches in Touraine, the latter had deserved severer punishment for his dishonourable treason. Just at this time many reasons combined to irritate him, and the accusations hurled against him in the sermons preached at Paris by the Franciscan Antoine Fradin, which found their echo in popular tumults, did not help to pacify him.
Louis XI.’s relation to Pope Sixtus IV. had always been uncertain. The king had, from the beginning of his reign, held out the Pragmatic Sanction and the Council as a bait and a terror. He had not even always observed outward respect; anger and sorrow at the slighting treatment shown to him during his French legation, had shortened Cardinal Bessarion’s life. He was on the verge of open hostility when the Pope appointed Giuliano della Rovere legate of Avignon, which dignity was filled by Charles de Bourbon. The king accused the new legate of being implicated in Réné of Anjou’s plans, who, at variance with Louis XI., hoped to obtain the county of Provence for the Duke of Burgundy. After appointing his only remaining nephew, Charles, Count of Maine, as his heir, the old king entered into an agreement of the kind with Charles the Bold in 1474, who by this means, and the reviving of the superannuated royal title of Arelat, hoped to attain the dignity, for the grant of which he had vainly negotiated with the Emperor Frederick III. Louis XI. had formerly garrisoned the province of Anjou, and taken the precautions necessary to hold both Charles and Réné in check. Towards the end of the winter of 1476 the terrible defeat of Charles at Granson left the hands of Louis free, and he immediately commenced a trial against Réné in Parliament for high treason, and forced him and the other branches of the house of Anjou at Lyons to cede all rights and claims to him. Réné, who was then sixty-eight years old, still retained the government of his States, but the king took precautions against future vagaries by fortifying and by gaining over to his side the principal councillors of his wavering and incapable cousin, precautions which future events proved useless.
The influence on the destinies of Italy of this transferring of the claims on Naples from a weak collateral line to the royal house of France, need not be indicated here. In order to punish the Holy See for the share ascribed to her legates, the king had an idea of garrisoning Franche Comtois, Venaissin and Anjou, and he refrained only because Charles the Bold, who had speedily collected his army, threatened to advance into Provence in case the Pope were annoyed in his French possessions.
It was his relationship with the Duke of Burgundy which so violently excited Louis XI. against Sixtus IV.’s ally, the king of Naples, and this was the foundation of French policy towards the Aragonese. It has been observed already that King Ferrante declined Louis’s proposals of a family alliance, out of regard for his connections with Spain and Burgundy. He held firmly to his alliance with the latter, even when, after the battle at Granson, Milan and Savoy turned aside from the vanquished party and joined the king. In the autumn of 1474 Ferrante had sent his younger son Federigo to the duke to deliver to him the order of the Ermine, and the prince had married a daughter of the duke of Bourbon, Charles the Bold’s adherent, and had only returned home two years later. Among his companions was the same Cola di Campobasso, who remained in the duke’s service, and exercised, by his shameful treason, only too great an influence on his tragical fate.[249] In April 1475 the Bastard of Burgundy, Antony, brother of the Duke, was in Naples, where he lived in the house of Diomed Carafa, and was most honourably treated by the King.[250] Charles the Bold’s death, in the battle near Nancy, January 5, 1477—an event which made Louis XI. entirely master of France, although it did not diminish the discontent excited by his covetousness, cunning, and cruelty—was a heavy blow for Ferrante’s entire policy, and later forced him into compliance when affairs in Italy also took a turn not in accordance with his expectations.
From Arras, which the king had taken May 4, 1478, in war against Mary of Burgundy, Charles’s daughter, by means of a capitulation which seemed concluded only to be broken, Louis XI. addressed a letter to the Florentines, May 12, in which he expressed his sorrow and indignation at what had occurred, and announced the arrival of an ambassador: ‘Our regret is as great as if the matter had concerned ourselves, and our honour is as much insulted as your own, the Medici being our relations, friends, and allies. We hold the attempt against you, and the murder of our cousin Giuliano, as equal to an attempt against ourselves, and we consider the Pazzi as guilty of high treason. On no account do we wish that their crime go unpunished, but desire with all our heart that a chastisement may be inflicted which shall serve as an example for ever. Thus we have determined to send our beloved and faithful chamberlain to your Excellencies, the Lord of Argenton, seneschal of our province of Poitou, at present one of the men who has our complete confidence, in order to make known our intentions to you. He will inform you of various things concerning these matters.’[251]
It was no unimportant man whom the king sent to Italy. Philippe de Commines delineates in his memoirs an ambassador as ‘a complaisant man, who takes liberties with things and words in order to attain his end.’ It was he who wrote thus, whom Louis XI. selected. During the days of Peronne, when the king had voluntarily put himself in the power of his mighty opponent, Charles the Bold, he recognised Commines’ acuteness and knew his obligations to him, so that when the duke in his inconsiderate haste was plunging himself into destruction, the king employed every means in his power to gain over this most capable councillor. The youthful companion and confidant of Charles went over to the enemy’s camp in 1472, and his new master so overwhelmed him with honours and gain that the motives of his change of party and faithlessness now seem even worse than they perhaps really were, however unfavourable certain expressions attributed to him on other occasions may appear. When the Duke of Burgundy at last met before Nancy, the death he had challenged so often, the king dreaded to employ Commines to execute his plans against Flanders; he employed him first in Burgundy itself, and then entrusted him with the Italian embassy. Florentine affairs formed only a part of his mission. A question arose concerning the intentions of Sixtus IV. and his predominating influence in Central Italy, limiting the ambition of the Aragonese who promoted these views for the time, and thus forced Florence, as well as Savoy and Milan, to adhere closer to the French interest.
In the middle of June the lord of Argenton—Commines bore this title after his marriage with Hélène de Jambes, heiress of Ortes—arrived at Turin. The duchess of Savoy, Jolante, widow of Amadeus IX., regent for her son Philibert I., was the King’s sister, and he had always managed to make use of the relationship more in the French interest than in that of the little neighbour state. He must have repented frustrating Philibert’s marriage with Mary of Burgundy when the archduke Max obtained her hand. He promoted the betrothal of the latter with Bianca Sforza, who was destined in later years to become the consort of the Emperor. Commines was to negotiate this affair in Milan with Bianca’s mother, Bona of Savoy. He repaired thither after two days’ halt in Turin. The promise of the renewal of the investiture of Genoa and Savona, in favour of Giovan Galeazzo Sforza, was to ally the regent of Milan more closely to France, and confirm the common alliance with Florence. The Italians soon observed, however, how the matter stood respecting the king’s intentions towards the Holy See, even before Commines expressed himself on the subject to Bona of Savoy. On June 16, during Commines’ residence in Turin, Antonio d’Appiano, Milanese ambassador at the court of Guglielmo Paleologus, marquis of Montferrat, wrote from Casale to the duchess, ‘The marquis imparted to me to-day that the French king has long been labouring to produce a schism in the church. What has occurred in Florence seems to afford him a suitable means to this end; on which account he sends the lord of Argenton to the duchess of Savoy, to your Excellence, and to Florence. To Venice he will not go, because the king is certain that, in respect to the alliance entered into, a simple letter will suffice to persuade the Republic to comply. The purpose is to complain of the Pope, because, instead of protecting Christendom against the Turks, he thinks of nothing but elevating and enriching his relations, by suffering all wickedness and treasons, and allowing them to be carried out without hindrance, as is the case in Florence. For this reason he wishes that the Duchess of Savoy, your Excellency, and the Venetians may let none pass to Rome from beyond the mountains. Without taking up arms against the Pope, he wishes thus to awake in him bitter repentance for his errors, and to proceed gradually, day by day, according to circumstances and information and careful calculation.’ It was said the Bishop of Clermont was to go to Rome to make representations to the Pope and to threaten Riario personally.[252]
On June 22 Commines left Milan with a suite of twenty-five horsemen. ‘The lord of Argenton,’ thus wrote the duchess to her ambassador in Rome, ‘leaves us to-day for Florence. He is commissioned to persuade all the powers to withdraw from their obedience to the Pope, the king of France deeming it necessary for the weal of Christendom to assemble a general council as soon as a disposition favourable to it evinces itself. His Majesty will immediately summon one in the kingdom.’ Three days before, Lorenzo de’ Medici had thanked the king for his sympathy, and given him information of the excommunication proclaimed against him and the strife in prospect. ‘God is my witness that I am conscious of having done nothing against the Pope but that I live, that I did not allow myself to be killed, that grace from above protected me. This is my sin; this my crime for which I deserve destruction and exclusion from the Church. But we have the canon laws, we have natural and political justice, we have truth and innocence, and we have God and man.’[253]