The Duke’s mischievous policy—New league against Charles V.—A French army reaches Naples—The Duke’s campaign in Lombardy—Peace restored—Siege of Florence—Coronation of the Emperor at Bologna—The independence of Italy finally lost—Leonora Duchess of Urbino—The Duke’s military discourses.
WE must now return to the confederate camp at Isola, which the Duke of Urbino broke up, after having eased his conscience by sending to Francis I. the explanation of his views to which we have referred. The general feeling regarding his conduct was testified by a speedy withdrawal of many forces under his command, some deserting to the enemy, others retiring to their homes. On the 1st of June, he was at Monterosi, and thence fell back upon Viterbo and Todi, where he obtained some inglorious successes over the imperialist bands, as they fled in disorder from plague-stricken Rome. During the autumn his troops, which gradually diminished to a few thousands, led a life of disreputable pillage about the valley of the Tiber; and, after again embroiling himself in the affairs of Perugia with little credit or success, he interfered in the succession of Camerino in a way which we shall find eventually pregnant with mischief to his son. On the Pontiff's arrival at Orvieto, he hastened to wait upon his Holiness, and put forward the Venetian commissioner to make a laboured justification of his recent miscarriages. Clement, affecting contentment with what was beyond redress, received him cordially, and hinted at a union of his son Guidobaldo with Caterina, daughter of his late competitor, Lorenzo de' Medici. But ere long he reaped the fruit of his feeble policy, by hearing that he was spoken of in the most disparaging terms by the gallant Francis I., and by the French general Lautrec.
Still more mortifying to him was the distrust shown by his Venetian employers. We learn from Sanuto's Diaries that, early in May, his Duchess had repaired to Venice, with the young Guidobaldo and a suite of forty persons, while the visits passing between her and the imperial ambassador soon became matter of unfavourable comment. On the 29th of June, a guard of barges was placed near her residence, to intercept any attempt at escape; and on the envoy from Urbino questioning this proceeding, the Doge said, in explanation, "We have much reliance on our Captain from past experience, but what has been done was to satisfy the vulgar." Hearing that his wife and son were thus under surveillance, as hostages for his good faith, the Duke, on the 9th of July, penned a remonstrance and justification, somewhat similar to that which he had transmitted to the French king. It will be found in the [Appendix, No. III.], and, though a most inconclusive defence, it was well received by the Signory, and his family were so far released from constraint, that, early in August, the Duchess was allowed to go for health to the baths of Abano. News of her departure from such a cause were little consolation to her lord, who declared that, were she to die, he should be in despair. Remembering, however, the fate of Carmagnola, he would not venture in person to Venice, until he had twice sent his confidential friend Leonardi to reconnoitre the state of feeling there. Reassured at length, by pressing invitations from the Signory, he in the spring took ship at Pesaro with a small suite, and was met upon landing by an escort of twenty gentlemen in scarlet, who conducted him to his lodging. Next day he was admitted to the interview which he had demanded, and was received at the top of the great stairs by the Doge, followed by the principal senators. After mutual embraces, the Duke was led to a seat of honour, and had audience for an hour and a half. This being concluded, the public were admitted to see their Captain-general, who was richly decked in diamonds, with a massive bracelet of twisted gold on his left arm, and a jewelled device in his cap. On returning to his apartment, he had from the Signory the customary compliment of confections, malmsey, and wax lights. It would be hard to say how far he was indebted to his oratory for this happy extrication from his difficulties; but we are told by one of his suite that many of the nobility, who crowded to pay their respects, besought a sight of his speech to the senate, insisting that so eloquent an oration must needs have been written and committed to memory.[23]
Thinking it well to retire with flying colours, he next morning took his departure; and his party, being challenged by three of the patrol for riding armed, answered by beating them to death. The same intemperate behaviour brought him ere many days into a new dilemma with his employers. Gian Andrea da Prato, an officer of the Republic, having somewhat disrespectfully combated his opinion as to the defences of Peschiera, received from him a severe blow in the face, tearing it with a diamond ring he happened to wear, which was followed up by a severe beating with his baton of command; Leonardi adding that it was well for him the Duke was unarmed. The Venetian officers, protesting against this violence as an insult to the Signory, and as incompatible with due freedom of discussion in council, sent a complaint to the senate; but the Duke's resident minister succeeded in averting their indignation by explanations. Their satisfaction with his services under the banner of St. Mark was further testified by presenting him with a palace worth 10,000 scudi, which may fairly be taken into account as countervailing the strictures of Guicciardini and Sismondi.
The capture of Rome being known, a new coalition was hastily patched up, wherein France, England, Venice, and Florence were parties, and to which the free cardinals, in name of the Sacred College, adhered. Its avowed object was to check the exorbitant power of Charles in Italy, and to establish Francesco Sforza in Milan, then held by Antonio della Leyva for the Emperor. A powerful French army under Lautrec marched on the 30th of June, and, on its arrival in Lombardy, the Venetians recalled most of their forces from Central Italy. On the 4th of October Pavia was taken and miserably sacked, and Milan might have become an easy prey had not Lautrec preferred advancing for the Pope's liberation. But, having lost time in extorting contributions from Piacenza and Parma, he had only reached Reggio when he heard of his escape from durance. Clement, though avowing gratitude for these exertions on his behalf, declined committing himself by any overt act against the Emperor, whose troops still occupied Rome.
The year which now closed is justly characterised by Muratori as the most fatal and lamentable for Italy that history has commemorated. The horrors of war, which, during its course, were poured in accumulated measure upon the Eternal City, fell largely upon many other parts of the Peninsula. Four foreign armies were let loose upon her plains, to steep them in misery, and the enormities attending the sack of Rome were repeated at Pavia, Spoleto, and a multitude of minor towns in Lombardy and Central Italy. The furies of civil broil were meanwhile scarcely less rampant. The Campagna of Rome, the sunny shores of Naples, the towns of the Abruzzi, were ravaged or revolutionised by the arms and intrigues of the Pontiff. Florence, Siena, Modena, Rimini, Ravenna, Perugia, and Camerino changed their governments, under pressure of foreign force or domestic violence. Nor were the elements more propitious. Incessant rains destroyed the harvest, and laid whole districts under water. With an unusual demand upon agricultural produce, the supply was greatly curtailed. Famine reigned throughout the land, and pestilence desolated the population. The inhabitants, reduced to general mendicity, beset the streets and highways with their squalid children. Their murmurs by day and their screams by night met with rare responses from passers-by as needy as themselves; and at length, worn out with suffering, they laid them down to die. It was during this year of general gloom that Machiavelli closed his life; and to it specially applies that passage in his Principe (whether then interpolated or written long before) describing the prostration of his native land. "Conquered, enslaved, divided—without leader or law—beaten, spoiled, partitioned, overrun, and in every way ruined—she lay half lifeless, awaiting some one to heal her wounds, to arrest the robbery, pillage, and forced taxation of her states, to heal her long-cankering sores."
To this hideous but faithful picture one finishing touch is wanting. Alarmed by Lautrec's advance upon Naples, the Prince of Orange at length, on the 16th of February, gave orders for the evacuation of Rome. But his army, now crumbled away to some thirteen thousand men, refused to march without an advance of pay, for which a final contribution of 20,000 ducats was wrested from the Camera. Not satisfied with this, the brutal soldiery redoubled their individual efforts, by every ingenuity of torture, to screw more treasure or ransom from the wretched inhabitants. But a summary vengeance awaited them. Such of the citizens as had arms secretly left the city, and, as their relentless foes straggled heedlessly across the Campagna, laden with spoil, they, by a succession of furious charges, recovered a vast quantity of the plunder, and, stripping the rapacious soldiery of their gala dresses and rich jewels, dismissed them naked. In this state the exasperated peasantry, headed by Napoleone Orsini, the warlike Abbot of Farfa, set upon and massacred them without mercy. So signal was these miscreants' fate that, in two years, scarcely one of them is supposed to have survived.
After delaying for some weeks at Bologna, to abide the issue of many intricate negotiations which followed upon the Pontiff's release, Lautrec advanced, by the eastern coast, to attack the kingdom of Naples. His army is estimated by Muratori at about fifty thousand, though stated by others at a much higher amount. On the 10th of February, he passed the frontier by the Tronto, and at Aquila, and elsewhere in the Abruzzi, was received with open arms by the remnant of the Angevine party. On the 12th of March, the two armies were in presence at Troia; but, neither of them being anxious for a decisive result, no engagement followed. After ravaging most of La Puglia and Calabria, the French troops sat down before Naples, on the 29th of April, and continued the siege during most of the summer. Once more did that delicious land, where the ancients placed their Elysian fields, and which is the terrestrial heaven of modern Italians, prove fatal to its spoilers. Its soil, fertile in nature's choicest products; its bright atmosphere, redolent of beauty; its climate, conducive to luxurious gratifications; its volcanic air, stimulating to sensual indulgences; its breezes, wafting perennial perfumes—all invited to an excess of enjoyment, enervating to the physical, as it was fatal to the moral energies of the invaders. Their cup of pleasure was drugged, and Naples was avenged on her destroyers by her own poisons, which they greedily quaffed. A contagious pestilence swept their ranks, and, on the 15th of August, carried off their leader. Weakened and discouraged, the remnant shut themselves into Aversa, but were soon forced to a capitulation, which being violated, most of them were cut to pieces.