On the 14th of the same month, the Duke of Milan wrote a gay letter to Isabella d'Este, informing her of his intention to attack Asti, and regretting that she was not present to join the expedition on her fleet charger. But Asti was too strongly fortified, and the forces under Galeazzo were too raw and ill paid, for him to attempt an assault; so he remained in his camp at Annona, and contented himself with cutting off the supplies of the beleaguered city.

Towards the end of April, the imperial envoys were at length despatched with the long-promised privileges, and in the middle of May they reached Milan, where they were magnificently entertained by the duke and duchess in the Castello. On the 26th of May, the festival of S. Felicissimo, the great ceremony took place. An imposing tribunal, hung with crimson satin embroidered with gold mulberry leaves and berries, was erected for the occasion on the piazza at the doors of the Duomo, and here, after attending high mass, Lodovico Sforza was solemnly proclaimed Duke of Milan, Count of Pavia and Angera, by the grace of God and the will of his Cesarean Majesty, Maximilian, Emperor-elect and chief of the Holy Roman Empire. The imperial delegates, Melchior, Bishop of Brixen, and Conrad Stürzl, Chancellor of the King of the Romans, first read aloud the privileges in their master's name, and then invested Lodovico with the ducal cap and mantle, and placed the sceptre and sword of state in his hands. Giasone del Maino, the celebrated Pavian jurist, recited a Latin oration, after which the duke, accompanied by the imperial ambassadors, and followed by the duchess and a brilliant suite of courtiers and ladies, rode in procession to the ancient basilica of S. Ambrogio to return thanks for his accession. Then the whole company returned, "with immense rejoicing and triumph," to the Castello, where a series of splendid fêtes were given in honour of the occasion, and rich presents were made to the imperial ambassadors and court officials. Two days afterwards another imposing ceremony was held in the Castello, when the heads of houses from the different quarters of the city were assembled, and each citizen in turn swore fealty, first to Duke Lodovico and afterwards to Duchess Beatrice, whom, in the event of his own death, he had appointed to be regent of the State and guardian of his sons. The Marquis of Mantua was among the guests present, and Beatrice felt the keenest regret that the marchioness was unable to accompany him and witness the wonderful scene before the Duomo, which, she exclaims in her youthful enthusiasm," was the grandest spectacle and noblest solemnity that our eyes have ever beheld."

It was the proudest day of Lodovico's life, and his adored wife, who shared the cares of State as well as the festivities of his court, might well join in his exultation. But his confidence in the favours of Fortune and in the security of his position was destined to receive a rude shock. Before the week was ended, on the very day when Beatrice wrote her triumphant letter to her sister, Louis of Orleans, strengthened by the arrival of fresh troops, made a successful sally from Asti at nightfall and appeared before the walls of Novara. The citizens, who were already disaffected by reason of the oppressive exactions of the Duke of Milan, opened their gates, and after a short siege the citadel surrendered. Suddenly the Duke of Milan, who was resting after the fatigues of the recent festivities at Vigevano, heard that his rival, at the head of a strongly armed force, was within twenty miles of his palace gates. An irresistible panic seized him, and he retired, first to Abbiategrasso, beyond the Ticino, and then to Milan, where he took refuge in the Castello with his wife and children. The Venetian annalist Malipiero records how, on the 20th of June, two Lombard friars arrived at the convent of San Salvador in Venice, bringing word that the duke had fled in terror of his life to the Rocca, and would hardly see or speak to a single soul. "He is in bad health, with one hand paralyzed, they say, and is hated by all the people, and fears they will rise against him." In this critical moment, Beatrice showed a courage and presence of mind which contrasted curiously with her husband's weakness. She sent for the chief Milanese noblemen, spoke brave words to them, and took prompt measures for defending the Castello and city. Fortunately, the Venetian general, Bernardo Contarini, arrived on the 22nd of June at the head of several thousand Greek Stradiots to the duke's assistance, while the French were held in check by Galeazzo's force and compelled to remain within the walls of Novara. This momentary panic over, Lodovico recovered his health and nerve, but his treasury was exhausted by the large subsidies granted to his allies and the extravagant expenditure of the last two years, and the forced loans which he exacted from his subjects created a general feeling of discontent. Galeazzo's force was weakened by continual desertion, and the duke had great difficulty in raising sufficient money to maintain two separate armies. Rumours of the disaffection of the Milanese and of the perils which threatened his ally had reached Maximilian's ears at Worms, and on the 18th of June he sent Lodovico a grave warning by his envoy, Angelo Talenti, begging the duke to place German troops in the fortress of Lombardy, and to provide guards for the castles of Milan and Como, "in order that he may be able to sleep in peace." Two days later he spoke again to the envoy, and begged him to urge the duke to remove his womankind from the Castello to Cremona, where he heard that he had a fine palace, saying that the presence of women had often caused the loss of citadels. Perhaps, if Maximilian had known Duchess Beatrice as well as he did a year later, he would have thought this warning superfluous. Lodovico, however, thanked his Majesty for his thoughtfulness, and applied himself, with the help of Leonardo, to fortify the Castello of Milan and make it an impregnable citadel. That winter he had appointed Bernardino del Corte, one of his favourite and most devoted servants, to be governor of the Rocca, which held his treasure and jewels together with all his most precious possessions, and on the 12th of January, a fortnight before the birth of Beatrice's child, the new castellan had taken a solemn oath of fealty to the duke and duchess, swearing, with his hand on the crucifix, that he would hold the Castello for his liege lord and lady till his latest breath. Messer Galeazzo and his brother, Antonio Maria di Sanseverino, Giasone del Maino, Ambrogio di Rosate, the astrologer, Galeotto Prince of Mirandola, and Giovanni Adorno, a powerful Genoese nobleman, who had married a sister of the Sanseverini brothers, were all present in Beatrice's room in the Rocchetta on this occasion, and signed the document as witnesses of Bernardino's oath.

Maximilian now sent his long-promised contingent of Swiss and German troops to join the Count of Caiazzo's horse, and the Venetian army, under the generalship of Gian Francesco Gonzaga, and the allied forces, amounting in all to some twenty-five thousand men, prepared to cut off the retreat of the French king and prevent his return to Asti. "Here I am," wrote the Marquis of Mantua to his wife, "at the head of the finest army which Italy has ever seen, not only to resist, but to exterminate the French." And Isabella wrote back in high spirits at the "great enterprise" that was before him, sending him a cross with an Agnus Dei to wear round his neck in battle, and telling him that her prayers and those of all the priests of Mantua were with him.

On Sunday, the 5th of July, the French army, reduced by sickness and desertion to less than ten thousand in number, and fatigued by long forced marches across the Apennines, descended into the valley of the Taro, and encamped at the village of Fornovo, on the right bank of the mountain torrent. Further along the same bank, down in the plains, lay the army of the league, and, in order to reach Lombardy, the French had to cross the river in full view of the enemy's camp. Early on Monday morning, the 6th of July, Charles, mounted on his favourite charger, "Savoy," and wearing white and purple plumes in his cap, led the van of his army across the Taro, swollen as it was by the late heavy rains. At the same moment, the Marquis of Mantua and the Count of Caiazzo, at the head of their light cavalry, attacked the French rear-guard, and the battle began. Paolo Giovio describes the engagement that followed as the fiercest battle of the age, in which more blood was spilt than in any other during the last two hundred years, although Commines, who was present with his monarch, says that the actual fighting only lasted a quarter of an hour. On both sides the leaders fought with heroic courage. Charles VIII. himself repeatedly led the charge against the Milanese horse, and, calling on the chivalry of France to live or die with him, dashed into the thickest of the fray. Once mounted on his war-horse, and face to face with the foe, the ugly little deformed man became a true king, and risked his life and liberty at the head of his subjects. Francesco Gonzaga, on his part, performed prodigies of valour, and had three horses killed under him, while his uncle, Rodolfo Gonzaga, and many other gallant knights were left dead on the field. But personal exploits could not atone for his want of generalship, and while the marquis and his immediate followers were engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand fight with the foe, a large body of his reserve remained inactive on the banks of the Taro, and his Stradiots were engaged in plundering the French camp. The result was that, in spite of their superior numbers, the Italian ranks were broken and many of the Venetians fled in confusion towards Parma, while the French succeeded in crossing the river, and, early on Tuesday morning, continued their march across the Lombard plain. But, as the camp and baggage remained in the hands of the allies, the Italians claimed the victory. The Venetians celebrated their triumph with public rejoicings and illuminations on the Piazza of S. Marco, and lauded their brave captain to the skies. Both at Milan and Mantua there was great exultation when the news became known; poets and painters alike did honour to the victors: Sperandio designed his noble medal, and Mantegna painted the Madonna della Vittoria to immortalize Francesco Gonzaga's triumph. But the marquis himself, writing to his wife from the camp the day after the battle, remarks that if only others had fought as he and his followers did, the victory would have been complete, and laments the disobedience and cowardice of the Stradiots, who first plundered the enemy's camp and then fled, although no one pursued them. "These things," he adds, "have caused me the greatest grief that I have ever known."

Lodovico's congratulations on the victory were coldly worded, and evoked a reply from his brother-in-law, saying that if he had foiled in courage, he would have been a dead man. But the duke could not forgive Gonzaga for allowing the French to pursue their way unmolested. Only the Count of Caiazzo and his brothers had attempted to follow them with their light cavalry, who were too few in number to do the enemy serious damage, and by the 8th of July, Charles and his tired army reached Asti in safety.

"God Himself was our guide," devoutly ejaculates Commines, "and led us home with honour, as that good man Fra Girolamo of Florence had foretold. But, as he said truly, we were made to suffer for our sins, for we were in sore need of food, and so great was our want of water that men drank of the ditches along the road; but no one was heard to complain, although it was the hardest journey I ever took in my life, and I have had many bad ones."

Among the booty which fell into the hands of the marquis after the battle was the French king's tent with all its contents. These included a sword and helmet, said to have belonged to Charlemagne, a silver casket containing the royal seals, besides a set of rich hangings and altar-plate, and a jewelled cross and reliquary on which Charles set great value, because it held a sacred thorn and piece of wood from the holy cross, a vest of our Lady, and a limb of St. Denis, which were objects of his especial devotion. Many of these relics were eventually restored to the king, who, not to be outdone in courtesy, sent the marquis a favourite white horse of his, which had been captured by the French, gorgeously apparelled in gold trappings. Among the spoils sent to Mantua were a magnificent set of embroidered hangings from the royal tent, and a curious book of paintings, containing portraits of the chief Italian beauties who had fascinated King Charles. These, together with the hilt of the broken sword with which the marquis himself had fought in the mêlèe, were joyfully received by Isabella, who counted these trophies among her proudest possessions. She was, accordingly, a good deal annoyed when, a week later, her husband desired her to send back the French king's hangings, as he wished to give them to her sister Beatrice. Her protest on this occasion is very characteristic.

"Most Illustrious Lord,

"Your Excellency has desired me to send the four pieces of drapery that belonged to the French king, in order that you may present them to the Duchess of Milan. I of course obey you, but in this instance I must say I do it with great reluctance, as I think these royal spoils ought to remain in our family, in perpetual memory of your glorious deeds, of which we have no other record here. By giving them to others, you appear to surrender the honour of the enterprise with these trophies of the victory. I do not send them to-day, because they require a mule, and I also hope that you will be able to make some excuse to the duchess and tell her, for instance, that you have already given me these hangings. If I had not seen them already, I should not have cared so much; but since you gave them to me in the first place, and they were won at the peril of your own life, I shall only give them up with tears in my eyes. All the same, as I said before, I will obey your Excellency, but shall hope to receive some explanation in reply. If these draperies were a thousand times more valuable than they are, and had been acquired in any other way, I should gladly give them up to my sister the duchess, whom, as you know, I love and honour with all my heart. But, under the circumstances, I must own it is very hard for me to part with them.