CHAPTER V.
SETTLEMENT OF THE DISPUTE BETWEEN INNOCENT VIII. AND FERRANTE OF NAPLES.
During all this time the quarrel between the Pope and the king was assuming serious dimensions. One could hardly expect otherwise when the characters of the two men are taken into consideration. The one combined a full conception of lofty dignity with the consciousness of very little real power, was very excitable, wanting in perseverance, and continually going from one extreme to another; the other was slily calculating, practised in all the arts of unprincipled cunning, and disposed to undervalue his opponent when the tide seemed to have turned in his own favour. When the king thought he had rid himself of all enemies and suspicious persons in his own country, he did not hesitate to disregard the stipulations agreed upon in August 1486, and defy the Pope. The dispute went on through 1488 even to the proclamation of ecclesiastical censures. This was unpleasant to Lorenzo for many reasons: ‘I fear,’ he wrote to Lanfredini, September 3,[509] ‘people will think it is meal out of my tub, though you know that the Pope has acted not only without me but against my advice. Not only is the king ready and inclined to attempt aggression, but the Pope is utterly unprepared; in fact, his affairs are in such disorder that a most disastrous war may arise out of this.’ Lorenzo’s son-in-law begged him to go to Rome in the autumn, but he refused, waiting to see whether the Pope and the king would come to terms. In the spring of 1489 the Spanish court made an effort at mediation through ambassadors in Rome. Ferrante’s object seemed to be to increase the Pope’s anger by personal attacks on him and his, so as to produce an immediate rupture. This conduct can be explained only on one of two suppositions: he either thought that he could treat his adversary as he chose without danger to himself, or he was determined to let things come to a pass which might, indeed, easily bring him to the gates of Rome, but might also just as easily call other nations to the rescue. All the misfortunes that befell Ferrante’s family and dynasty in 1495 were provoked by his self-will of six years before. It was no thanks to him nor to his son, who was worse than he, nor to the Pope, that they were not overtaken then by the misfortune of which both parties—the one in his ambitious, tyrannical stubbornness, the other in his inconsiderate weakness—seemed to have no foreboding. That it was avoided for a time was chiefly owing to Lorenzo de’ Medici, a fact the merit of which ought to cover many of his sins.
After the fruitless Spanish attempt at mediation, and while Ferrante was doing all he could to stir up the King of the Romans against the Pope, the latter resolved to act. On June 27, 1489, Niccolò Orsini, Count of Pitigliano, arrived in Rome. A dispute between this excellent soldier and the Republic of Siena had, in the previous April, resulted in his dismissal from the Florentine service; whereupon the Pope offered him the post of Captain-General of the Church. As the astrologers pronounced the constellations favourable, on the very day of the count’s arrival the Pope presented him with his insignia of office, tunic, hat, sword, and commander’s staff, and blessed the two standards, while Orsini knelt before him. On the following Sunday the new captain-general made his triumphal entry into Rome from Monte Mario. He was then forty-eight years of age, but can be best imagined as he is represented on his monument in SS. Giovanni e Paolo at Venice, erected twenty years later, when he had fallen a victim to his exertions during the war of the League of Cambrai. He appears there as a fine-looking stately horseman with waving plume and rich scarf; his head is slightly bent as if in thought, and turned towards the right; he holds in his hand the commander’s staff, and stands between allegorical statues of Prudence and Faith. On the 30th, after high mass, the citation of the King of Naples took place. He was allowed three months’ grace to fulfil his duty as a vassal; that he would submit was not to be expected. The most zealous preparations were made for the war which seemed inevitable. Cardinal Sforza, on behalf of Lodovico, and Lanfredini, who was ill, sought to restrain the Pope from taking an extreme step. On the part of the Florentines, at least, this mediation was honestly meant.
Lorenzo went in July to the baths, whence, according to the new Ferrarese ambassador Manfredo Manfredi,[510] he came back refreshed and well on August 6. Scarcely was he home when he set to work at the Roman affair. ‘As to the deliberations yonder,’ he wrote on the 8th to Lanfredini,[511] ‘I am of opinion that in considering my Lord Lodovico’s proposals you must always keep in view that he can be a turncoat on occasion and may very likely have private aims, as the quarrel between the Pope and the king may be very convenient to him in many respects. Considering his nature, therefore, we must not rely on him too much, but must follow his example in profiting by his proceedings when they answer our purposes, but keeping the upper hand if he takes it into his head to change. First of all I wish the Holy Father to let the Venetians know that both Lord Lodovico and ourselves have induced him to conceal from the Republic nothing that concerns his relations with the king. This I say because in any case it seems to me important that the Pope should at least keep the Venetians in their present mind until we all see our way clearer. There is no real trust to be placed in those people, but their authority is useful; and it is quite possible to keep on tolerable terms with them without causing my Lord Lodovico to take fright. But above all I wish to be assured whether the Pope is determined to abide by the conditions already settled, or whether he thinks of agreeing to some modifications. As to the tribute-money, I think a compromise possible; as for the barons, I see no means, as the king has gone too far to be able to draw back. With regard to spiritual matters an arrangement will be easy, for the king will hardly raise difficulties where he has only to give promises. When it comes to keeping them they must just wink at each other, as all popes and all kings have done. The point therefore is to know exactly what we have to abide by before taking a decision which, according to my view, must depend on what the Pope really intends; and his will cannot be forced, particularly if peace is established in France. Endeavour therefore to give me sure information if possible. In any case it is my fixed opinion that the Pope’s honour must be kept unstained, if my Lord Lodovico agrees with me, who, however, as before said, is not much to be trusted. A good understanding must be maintained with the Venetians, for the sake of having something to fall back upon. I think you must decline with thanks his Holiness’ proposal to confide the negotiations in question to me. It would be a distinction for me, but would scarcely answer his Holiness’ purposes. I, however, prefer his Holiness’ advantage to that which would be an honour to me personally. In any future agreement with the king, the conditions of the last peace will have to be modified in some particulars, and stronger shoulders than mine will be needed to bear that burthen. I shall consider myself honoured enough if the interests of his Holiness are secured with honour.’ Lorenzo’s unwillingness to take part in negotiations between the Pope and Venice was partly founded on the knowledge that the latter power was anything but well-disposed towards him. Two years after this his friend Guidoni, the Ferrarese ambassador, who had exchanged his post at Florence for the more difficult one in the city of the lagoons, wrote to him: ‘The Venetians detest your name more than Satan does the Cross.’
As Ferrante showed no sign of returning from his ways, Innocent continued to proceed against him. On September 11, 1489, in presence of the Neapolitan ambassador Antonio d’Alessandri, the kingdom of Naples was solemnly declared to have lapsed to the Holy See through non-fulfilment of homage.[512] The ambassador protested and appealed to the Council. The next day he appeared in the Sixtine Chapel with the other ambassadors, to celebrate the anniversary of the Pope’s coronation, just as if nothing had happened. But he was startled on the 13th, when a French envoy, Guillaume de Poitiers, of the family of the Counts of St. Vallier, arrived with great pomp at the Vatican.[513] For a long time past the Pope had been negotiating with France, and the French showed their desire for a good understanding with Rome by delivering up the Turkish Prince Dschem to Innocent at the end of the winter. It was already suspected that as soon as affairs were settled in Brittany, where resistance was already broken, whose last duke was dead, and where union with the crown was in progress, the French king, now nineteen, would turn his eyes towards Italy. Rome, conscious of her own weakness, reckoned on foreign aid, thinking she had two strings to her bow—France and Spain—both of whom were supposed to be displeased with Ferrante. But the prospect of war in Italy and interference from abroad, no matter whence it came or what the result might be, was highly displeasing to Lorenzo, and he renewed his efforts to change the mind of the Pope.
‘From your despatch of October 13,’ thus he begins a letter to Lanfredini four days later,[514] ‘I perceive that his Holiness has taken some little offence at my remonstrances against proceeding with the citations. Any offence to the Holy Father grieves me; but it would grieve me very much if he thought my counsel and actions were determined by anything but zeal for his good. I repeat, the Pope must make up his mind about three things. Either he must get justice from the king by force; or he must make as good terms as he can with him; or, lastly, if this cannot be done with honour, he must temporise and wait for more favourable circumstances. The first would be the most honourable plan; but I consider it dangerous and expensive, and think it cannot be executed without calling in a foreign power to Naples. Thereto three things are needful: first, the consent of Venice and Milan; secondly, sufficient independent means, both in men and money, on the part of the said power; and thirdly, very great expenditure on the part of the Pope. For the point is to over-match the king, whom Milan may perhaps assist should Venice declare against him; so that Milan, too, must be kept in check. An understanding with the barons and those of similar rank would be useful in such a case. Now I may be mistaken, but I cannot see the possibility of realising all these presuppositions, and therefore I have dissuaded his Holiness. Of the foreign powers only Spain and France can be taken into consideration. Spain seems to me at this moment incapable of either acting or paying,[515] and how France is to be relied upon I do not see. Supposing, however, that she changed her nature, I would agree with his Holiness, provided that in an expedition against Naples the person to be benefited should be the Duke of Lorraine (as heir of Anjou), which would be the least dangerous thing; for the Duke of Lorraine is not King of France, and his relationship to the royal house is of no great importance. Naples and Spain are much nearer relatives, and yet not friends; and when a man is once King of Naples he will go his own way.
‘All these reasons, it seems to me, ought to dissuade the Pope from any undertaking of the kind. In such circumstances it is of no use exasperating the king by citations and suchlike. Nay, even if one was armed and ready, I should still think it advisable to let such challenges alone, in order to avoid the danger of the king’s proceeding from words to deeds—a danger not to be under-rated. Better arm in silence than excite others to the attack by expressing hostility. As for the second case, that of an accommodation, I am perhaps, speaking without an exact knowledge of the state of affairs; and possibly conditions are being fixed in consequence of which the citation may be an useful measure. But from what I know, I believe that such a proceeding, instead of facilitating an accommodation, only serves to irritate, and will lead to a rupture. As for temporising, I will say nothing, because an immediate agreement on the most honourable terms possible seems to me far more to the purpose than waiting for some favourable conjuncture; the more so that, as you know better than I, the king has plenty of means of doing harm. I can say no more at present, not being sufficiently conversant with the details. If the Pope’s fearlessness rests on any secure ground, take care to let me know it, that I may be relieved from this anxiety. For though I am not exactly faint-hearted, yet, from the confidence placed in me by the Pope, his affairs cause me more anxiety than my own. So long as I know of no better foundation for his security, I cannot possibly be easy. On the subject of my lord Lodovico and his nature, I have spoken my mind freely. I am conscious that I am walking uprightly, and have only the Pope’s interest in view. So I repeat what I have said often before: I think an honourable accommodation better than a successful war. If that is impossible, he must temporise, provided the supposed possible favourable conditions do not exist. But if this should be the case, the king too would show himself more yielding, for he knows very well where he can be touched.’