Lorenzo’s remonstrances were not entirely ineffectual. Innocent, who had been informed that the Neapolitan exiles, especially the Sanseverini, had been well received at the French court, and that the young king had promised to restore them to their homes, went cautiously to work at least with regard to foreign allies. Without making any engagements, he tried to keep on good terms with France and Spain. Remonstrances were also made on the part of France, through special ambassadors, to King Ferrante; but he never ceased defending at foreign courts what he called the justice of his cause, and calculating that the French had their hands full, he showed no disposition to yield. Letters from the Duke of Saxony, King Maximilian, and the Emperor, produced just as little effect.[516] The Duke of Calabria told the Florentine ambassador that his father would accede to reasonable demands from the Pope, but not to things that were against his honour. He would send the palfrey as a token of the feudal relation; but not one soldo of tribute would he pay, and not one guilty baron would he pardon.[517] So the matter dragged on. In May 1490, Florence was visited by a Neapolitan ambassador on his way to Milan, Messer Camillo Seruciati.[518] The king instructed him to inform the Signoria and Lorenzo that he had hitherto endured many wrongs and insults from the Pope. If, however, the latter persisted in his wrongful obstinacy and hostility and did not leave off his threats of citation and excommunication, his majesty was not minded to endure such offences any longer. Without wasting any more words, the king meant to appear in Rome, with lance in rest, and answer the Pope in such a way as to make him see his error. The Neapolitan ambassador, being refused admission to the Pope’s chapel on Whitsun-eve, threatened to make his way in by force. To avoid scandal it was arranged that none of the diplomatic body should appear on that day.[519] But the affair seems to have been rather more seriously taken into consideration by France than Ferrante expected. On June 8, the Pope said to Lanfredini’s successor[520] that if he were not peaceable by nature and a good Italian, he held in his hand the means of avenging himself on the king; for months ago Madame de Beaujeu had caused a proposal to be made to him for conferring Naples as a fief on the Duke of Lorraine, in exchange for which the latter should cede his claims to Provence and other territories to her husband, the Duke of Bourbon,[521] the King of France in return assisting him to obtain Naples. This proposal had recently been renewed; he, the Pope, had said but little in reply, in order not to draw down the French into Italy. He wished that Lorenzo should be informed of the matter.
The situation was growing worse every day. There were already some hostile dealings on the frontiers. Papal couriers, carrying briefs that were never answered, were searched and roughly treated; people sent by the Pope to Benevento, and inhabitants of Pontecorvo going to Montecassino to perform their devotions, were seized.[522] Innocent complained that the indulgence he had shown towards the king on account of the representations of the other Italian powers had only made the former more insolent; and the powers stood and looked on while he was being insulted. If the Italians cared so little about his honour, he must turn to foreigners. Pandolfini adds that he had never seen the Pope so excited. The ambassador did what he could to soothe him, representing to him that the moderation shown towards the king had benefited his cause, and that he could depend on the support of Florence, Milan, and Venice. The Pope cut him short. He was always put off with fine speeches. Real support was to be expected from Florence alone. On account of Sforza’s changeableness, Milan was not to be reckoned on; and Venice never proceeded to action. He was determined to make an end of it. He would excommunicate the king, declare him guilty of heresy, and lay the kingdom under interdict. He had a perfect right to do so. He would give notice of everything to the allied States. If the king, in pursuance of his threat, made war upon him, and no assistance was afforded him, he would go abroad, where he would be received with open arms and helped to get back his own again, to the shame and loss of others. He could not remain in Italy otherwise than with the dignity befitting a Pope; if they all left him in the lurch, resistance to the king was impossible, on account of the Church’s want of military power and the untrustworthiness of the barons, who would only rejoice at his embarrassment. He considered himself fully justified in going abroad if the honour of the Holy See could not be saved otherwise. Other popes had done it, and had come back with honour and glory.
‘I saw,’ says Pandolfini, ‘that he had thoroughly considered the matter, and was not talking merely to get something out of me, as he could have no doubt of our attachment and fidelity. I pointed out to him that he should deliberate well, and not take a resolution which might bring discredit upon him, perhaps without serving his purpose. Foreign lands were full of strife, and the relations of Church and State were all very different from what they had been in the times of Innocent IV. and other popes, who had sought refuge beyond the mountains.’ But the Pope was not to be persuaded. He announced that he should summon the ambassadors of all the powers, declare his resolve and the grounds which compelled him to it, and proceed against the king. The Neapolitan ambassador was sent away. The Pope said also to Pandolfini: ‘If I go with the court to France, of all the Italian powers you will get the most advantage thereby, not only for your trade, but because I shall have all possible regard to you, and shall consult over everything with Lorenzo. Tell him these my words.’
It might have been thought that a conclusion was imminent. But after the lapse of a year matters were at exactly the same point. At the feast of SS. Peter and Paul, 1491, the king’s ambassador again presented the palfrey by way of tribute, was again sent away, and again protested.[523] Shortly after, the Florentine ambassador at Naples, Piero Nasi, had an interview with Giovanni Pontano, who was at that time Ferrante’s chief counsellor in political affairs, and had concluded the treaty with Rome in August 1486.[524] Pontano certainly must have felt that he was personally concerned, especially if, as is said, Innocent, having during his negotiations with him been warned of the king’s faithlessness, answered, ‘How can I be distrustful in dealing with a man who has never broken his word?’ ‘Ambassador,’ said Pontano to Nasi, ‘I most earnestly desire the termination of this strife, both for the sake of your Signoria and for my own sake. If the matter worries you in Florence, it worries me twice as much. Blame is laid on me which I do not deserve. What I promised in those days at Rome I had a right to promise; and it would have been kept; but no sooner was I away (would to God I had not gone in such a hurry!) than Cardinal della Rovere arrived from Genoa, and thereupon they re-arranged the conditions according to their pleasure. I certainly promised payment of the tribute, but the Pope himself gave me to understand that he would not insist upon it, and said: “I will come to an understanding with the king on that point.” But Ascanio (Sforza) and the other cardinals laughed and said I might promise off-hand, nothing would be kept.’ Pontano then went on to the affair of the barons, whose misfortunes he attributed to their own want of head. The king, he said, had not thought of taking them prisoners, after he had made them harmless by occupying their strongholds, and taken into his own hands the administration of justice within their territories. But they themselves had compelled him to proceed against them. For after the Prince of Salerno had gone to Rome and deluded the Pope with many things, he drew the barons into the plot, all of which became known to the king. Notwithstanding, the latter gave them plenty of time to place themselves in safety; but they were determined to wait for the end, and so it went ill with them at the last. The very man from whom proceeded this apology for the king, afterwards himself accused Ferrante and Alfonso of cruelty and covetousness![525] Nasi thought the Pope cared far more about this affair than for the money question. King Alfonso had once paid 30,000 ducats to Pope Pius II. It was indeed maintained that this was not tribute-money; but yet such another sum would surely be granted. For the investiture to be extended to the Duke of Calabria they would be willing to pay 50,000. The Pope could then confirm the bull of Sixtus IV. and content himself during the rest of his pontificate with the gaily adorned palfrey. Lorenzo should carefully consider the matter.
In the autumn of 1491 Pontano was sent to Rome to arrange a compromise. The hint that Naples was willing to pay seems to have had its effect. On reflection it is easy to see in what financial difficulties Innocent had placed himself. Lorenzo had to lend him money and redeem his pawned valuables; as Lanfredini had said, he was applying to all the sovereigns for tithes, and had made debts to the amount of 300,000 ducats.[526] But further hindrances kept cropping up, chiefly through the double-dealing of Ferrante, whom no one dared trust even when he, perhaps, really did mean honestly. It was said both at Rome and at Florence that he was stirring up troubles for the Pope in the States of the Church, and confirming the inhabitants of Ascoli in their rebellion against the Holy See, for which purpose he kept a numerous body of troops on the Tronto.[527] Lorenzo never ceased advising a reconciliation. Many things were done by the soldiers, he wrote to Innocent, which it was not becoming a wise prince and thoughtful Pope to leave unhindered, and the peace of all Italy would be in danger if an end were not put to the quarrel.[528] In the middle of November the king expressed his sense of obligation to Lorenzo, who was showing himself a true friend and mediator in these differences. He hoped, he said, soon to arrive at a settlement.[529] In the beginning of December they did arrive at one; and two months later peace was announced in the Consistory.[530] In the investiture to be given to the Duke of Calabria, for which the sum before mentioned was to be paid, his son, the Prince of Capua, was included. The new treaty was to be the only one in force. To the barons released from prison the king promised to pay a certain sum yearly. ‘How much,’ adds the Ferrarese ambassador, ‘is not known; and it is supposed to have been agreed upon merely for the sake of the Pope’s honour. Whether it will be kept, the future will show.’ The future, and no very distant one, brought on the Neapolitan king far other troubles than those caused by his quarrel with the Pope. Scarcely was that quarrel ended, scarcely was the settlement effected for which Pontano went to Rome,[531] when the king exhausted himself in demonstrations of gratitude and friendship towards the Pope, to whose blessing he attributed his own prosperity and that of all belonging to him, to whom he sent hippocras and twenty-four casks of choice Neapolitan wines, and with whom he formed a connection by betrothing his grandson, the Marquis of Gerace, to Battistina Usodimare, daughter of Teodorina Cybò.[532] Ferrante must have felt that the time was pressing for a reconciliation. French affairs gave him subjects for consideration. Charles VIII. had not only—thanks to his sister—overcome a dangerous opposition, but had reconciled the Duke of Orleans to himself and his house, and won Britanny, whose heiress gave him her hand on December 4, 1491. A double Papal dispensation was needed; for Charles was betrothed to Margaret of Austria, and Anne of Britanny already bore the title of Queen of the Romans as the bride of Margaret’s brother Maximilian; besides which the newly-married couple were near relations. Doubtless with a view to what was coming, a French embassy consisting of ten persons, headed by Jean de Villiers et La Groslaye, Bishop of Lombes and Abbot of St. Denis (afterwards highly influential at Rome), had been sent to Rome and received there on November 16. On December 3, a courier brought tidings of the marriage, which gave great offence, but for which the dispensations were given afterwards.[533] Another struggle with Maximilian was inevitable. But France was united and peaceful within, the last great fief was joined to the crown, and the work begun by Louis XI. was accomplished. Italy had reason to fear that the young king, whose ambition was greater than his intellectual capacity, would again take up claims which had never been really set at rest. In the very same year which closed with the agreement between Innocent and Ferrante the declaration of Charles VIII.’s rights to the crown worn by the latter was formulated. Five years before, the Duke of Orleans had put forward the claims to Milan which he afterwards enforced as king.[534]
If it was to the interest of France to stand well with the Pope, Ferrante had more than one motive for doing so. His daughter Beatrice, the widow of Matthias Corvinus, was threatened with dissolution of marriage by her second husband, the Polish Prince Ladislas, to whose elevation to the throne of Hungary she had greatly contributed; and it cost her father much trouble and anxiety to avert a decision which touched his own honour and that of his house. But the king, now growing old, was occupied with another family matter. The marriage of his granddaughter with the young Duke of Milan was the immediate, if not the principal, cause of a disagreement which sowed the seeds of ruin far beyond palaces and dynasties. The ambassador, whose arrival at Florence in the beginning of May 1490 has already been mentioned, was to go to Milan ‘to find out in what relation the lady duchess stood towards her most illustrious consort.’[535] The bad reports of Gian Galeazzo’s state of health proved unfounded, and Isabella soon after had hopes of becoming a mother. But matters remained unchanged. Gian Galeazzo at one and twenty was duke only in name. The government was still as it always had been, in the hands of his uncle, who had filled up all state-offices and military commands with confidants of his own. Connected with this last fact was the circumstance that in June 1488, Gian Jacopo Trivulzio, being apparently suspected by the Moro of taking Gian Galeazzo’s part, left the Milanese service and accepted a condotta offered him by King Ferrante.[536]
The case became worse when, in January 18, 1491, Lodovico married. His bride, Beatrice of Este, was a near relative of Isabella of Aragon, for her mother was the sister of Isabella’s father; but the relations between the two young wives soon became unbearable. Beatrice, the younger by five years, handsome, clever, ambitious, and proud, soon acquired great influence over her husband, now a man of forty; she went hand-in-hand with him in all his far-reaching plans, and induced him to yield to her desires with regard to outward position more than the cunning reserved man perhaps at first intended. She and Isabella soon came to open strife. The Duchess of Milan very naturally claimed the first place; the Duchess of Bari had no intention of contenting herself with the second. Lodovico’s authority made it easy for her to satisfy her passion for ruling. Isabella bore with growing impatience daily insults to herself and the unworthy position of her husband; of him too little is known to furnish grounds for a decided judgment of his character and capabilities. At last she appealed to her father, representing to him her position and begging for his intervention.[537]
There had been no love lost between Alfonso and Lodovico ever since the Ferrara war. Although in the disputes between the Pope and the king, the Sforza had not furthered the views of France against Ferrante, still the Moro’s attitude had been questionable. If the Duke of Calabria had had his way, at the time when the treaty was concluded with the Pope, Italy would have been in flames; for his counsel was to cross the Tronto with an army and force Lodovico to lay down his usurped power. But the old king was afraid of a step which threatened to bring incalculable consequences; particularly as the Moro’s intimate relations with France—relations whose first fruits were the complete abandonment in favour of Milan of the French claims to Genoa—and certain events in Florence which will be mentioned presently, gave him every motive for extreme caution. Instead of arms he tried negotiation. A Neapolitan embassy was sent to Milan,[538] but it had no answer but empty phrases. Lodovico replied that his nephew was Duke and enjoyed all the privileges of his rank. He himself had for years only borne the burthen of affairs, which he would lay down as soon as circumstances permitted. The only result of the application was that the good understanding between the house of Naples and the Sforza, already much endangered, notwithstanding the continued ostensible alliance, received a very severe shock. There was, indeed, no lack of friendly protestations on either side; and on February 8, 1492,[539] not long before the departure of the embassy above-mentioned, Ferrante wrote to his ambassador in Milan that he regarded the Duke of Bari as his own son (it is true the latter married his granddaughter) and his interests as his own, and congratulated him on his good understanding with France. Lodovico, to secure the maintenance of a power which he knew he was in danger of losing sooner or later, used all the means supplied by his versatile and inventive genius, and deluded himself with the increasing consciousness of his superiority over all other Italian rulers, only to involve himself irretrievably in the machinations which brought to ruin the edifice of Italian polity.