The usurper on his side, noting the coldness of Ferrante and his son Alfonso, Duke of Calabria, was haunted by a perpetual nightmare of his own downfall through Neapolitan intervention. Such a revolution would please Venice, who liked nothing better than to see her ambitious neighbour involved in trouble, while little help could be expected from the selfish Papacy, or from Florence which, torn by factions since the death of the wise Lorenzo de Medici in 1492, was too weak to prove either a formidable foe or ally.
In his need of support Ludovico looked beyond the Alps, and instantly his quick brain suggested the rôle which Charles VIII. might play. It was little more than half a century since the last representative of the Angevin claims on Naples had been defeated and driven away from that southern kingdom by his Aragonese rival, Alfonso V.[[8]] Since that date the House of Anjou had been incorporated with the French Crown, and thus Charles stood heir to its Italian ambitions; Naples but a stepping-stone on the road to his conquest of Jerusalem.
If you will be ruled by me [declared Ludovico enthusiastically] I will assist in making you greater than Charlemagne; for, when you have conquered the Kingdom of Naples, we will easily drive the Turk out of the Empire of Constantinople.
Such glib assurance awoke no answering belief amongst the older and more experienced of the French King’s councillors; but Charles was in the mood of Rehoboam and welcomed only the advice of the young and reckless, which confirmed his own strong desire to undertake the invasion. Commines, shaking his head over the many difficulties to be encountered, concludes that Providence must certainly have guided and protected the expedition, “for,” he adds, “the wisdom of the contrivers of this scheme contributed but little.”
The first step was for Charles to secure the goodwill of his neighbours; and, having decked out the glory of a crusade against the Turks in its brightest colours, he proceeded to buy the complaisance of England, Flanders, and Spain towards his project by various concessions and gifts. In the case of Spain the price demanded was the surrender of Roussillon and Cerdagne; and it is said that superstition as well as his anxiety for a settlement gained the French King’s final consent to this bargain. Two friars, whether bribed by Ferdinand or no, declared that Louis XI. had sinned grievously in ever taking possession of these provinces, seeing that his rival, though he had failed to redeem the mortgage on them, had spent his funds instead on a holy war against the Moors. Charles, they urged, must make instant restoration or run the risk, when he died, that his soul should dwell for ever in Purgatory.
By the Treaty of Barcelona (January, 1493) Roussillon and Cerdagne passed back therefore into Spanish hands, and Ferdinand with many compliments and protestations of friendship agreed to an alliance with France against all enemies and to assist him in his crusade on the understanding that such terms should not affect his relations with the Holy See. His allegiance to the “Vicar of Christ” must stand before all other claims.
Satisfied that he might now proceed on his road to fame without the interference of the great Powers of Europe, Charles crossed the Alps early in September, 1494. His forces, which comprised not only the chivalry of France eager to prove its metal but also companies of Swiss and German mercenaries armed with pike, halberd, and arquebus, were further strengthened by a formidable array of artillery, mounted on carriages drawn by horses. These could be moved almost as fast as the infantry; and Italy, accustomed to the old-fashioned heavy guns dragged across the country by teams of oxen, heard the report of the invader’s superior ordnance with amazement, even with incredulity.
In Naples, the idea of a new Angevin expedition had at first aroused laughter, and only the old King Ferrante had treated it as a serious issue. In January, 1494, he died, and his son Alfonso II., realizing at last that Ludovico’s threats were no mere cry of “wolf!” leagued himself with the Pope and Florence to protect the frontiers of Romagna and Tuscany.
The campaign that followed is perhaps the most amazing in the history of European warfare. In September, Charles was at Asti, indulging as Ludovico’s guest in festivities and excesses scarcely in keeping with the ideal of a Christian crusader. Pleasure thus delayed him a month; but from November, when he entered Florence, master of her principal fortresses and acclaimed as a conquering hero by the populace, his triumphant progress southwards was almost unimpeded. January, 1495, found him in Rome, at peace with the Pope on the strength of a hastily-constructed agreement, and by February, he had reached the northern boundary of the kingdom of Naples.