But while his position was rendered more definite and imposing, there seems to have been at this period a general cooling of Maximilian's popularity, at least among the ruling classes. A powerful party in the Empire, led by Berthold of Mainz, now claimed the fulfilment of those promises of reform which he had made at the Diet of 1489,[[43]] and his reluctance to devote his time to its discussion produced a distinctly bad impression among the Princes. Moreover, the part which he now began to play in Italian politics, exposing, as it did, the Imperial person to indignity and failure, roused all the old prejudices of the caste of nobles, and acted as a damper to their enthusiasm. Gladly as we should avoid threading the intricate maze of Italian politics—a task which is after all more apposite to a general history—some treatment of Maximilian's attitude during these momentous years is inevitable, even in so slight a sketch as the present. A general idea of Maximilian's ambitions in Italy will best be conveyed by his own words. "Italy has for centuries experienced what it means for the people, if no Emperor is there to restrain unruly passions, and hence the friends of the people have ever looked with favour on the Imperial power, and longed for the return of the Emperor."[[44]]
BIANCA MARIA SFORZA
Painting by A. de Predis
The fortunes of Milan were at this moment in the hands of Ludovico il Moro, who, at first merely Regent for Gian Galeazzo, had retained the whole powers of government in his own hands, even after his nephew had come of age. The young Duke's wife, Isabella of Naples, deeply resented her husband's sudordinate position, and Ludovico lived in terror of intervention on the part of Ferrante and his Florentine allies. Hoping to veil the injustice of his cause under Imperial recognition, he turned to Maximilian, and offered, in return for his own investiture as Duke of Milan, the hand of his niece, Bianca Maria Sforza, and a substantial dowry of 300,000 ducats.[[45]] So much hard cash seemed to promise to the needy Maximilian the fulfilment of many a golden dream; and the bride's want of pedigree was atoned for by the practical possession of her uncle's money bags. The marriage was duly celebrated on March 9, 1494, at Halle in Tyrol, when the heir of all the Caesars linked himself with the granddaughter of a Romagnol peasant.[[46]] Thus his first entry into Italian politics rightly exposed him with justice to the nickname afterwards bestowed upon him—Massimiliano Pochi Danari. "On the altar of politics the heart is often the lamb of sacrifice." Maximilian's second marriage is not the most creditable episode in his life. The luckless Bianca Maria never filled the place of Mary in her husband's affections, and remained till her death[[47]] a mere cipher, with next to no influence over him, and, though never ill-treated, entirely neglected and overlooked. The unpopularity of his marriage in Germany induced Maximilian to postpone the investiture of Ludovico with the Milanese, and Gian Galeazzo dying in the interval, the Emperor was able, with less offence to his conscience, to fulfil his promise in May 1495.[[48]]
Maximilian's first intention was to employ his wife's dowry in a Crusade against the Turks; and he plunged eagerly into projects of forming active alliances abroad and of raising permanent forces at home to stem the tide of infidel invasion.[[49]] But disturbing rumours of the doings of Charles VIII. diverted his attention to the Italian Peninsula.
By the death of Lorenzo de' Medici in 1492, the balance of power, which his skill had so long preserved in Italy, was seriously endangered. The incapable Piero inclined towards Naples, whose attitude was now little short of openly hostile to the Milanese usurper. Ludovico, in dire need of some influential ally, made advances to the new Pope and to Venice. But his alliance with these powers was shortlived: Spanish diplomacy effected a reconciliation between Naples and Alexander VI., and Ludovico found himself more isolated than ever. The death of the old King of Naples, in January 1494, hastened events. The universal hatred with which his successor, Alfonso II., was regarded, while it drove the exiled Barons to extreme measures, was favourable to the cause of Ludovico. He turned naturally to Charles VIII., who had recently acquired the Angevin claims to the throne of Naples, and whose feeble mind was filled with all the clap-trap of mediaeval chivalry. The appeal met with an enthusiastic response: every other trend of policy was sacrificed that this might succeed. By the end of August 1494, all was prepared for the invasion of Italy, and, with a magnificently appointed army of 60,000 men, Charles crossed the Alps and was welcomed by the traitor Ludovico. Florence opened her gates to the deliverer: the Pope abandoned Rome at his approach, and looked on in sullen anxiety from Sant' Angelo; and Naples itself was occupied amid general rejoicings, almost before a single blow had been struck.
Dazzled by such unprecedented success, Charles VIII. lost all restraint and began to indulge in the wildest dreams. He was to recover Jerusalem, to eject the infidel from Europe, and to restore in his own person the fallen Empire of Constantinople. Rightly or wrongly, he was credited with the intention of forcing the Pope to crown him Emperor of the West, or of driving him from the Papal throne and instituting a thorough reform of the Church. Such rumours could not but fill Maximilian with an uneasiness which Borgia's letters did not fail to augment.[[50]] It was only owing to the skilful diplomacy of Charles' envoys and his own strained relations with Venice, that he preserved neutrality for so long as he did.[[51]] Had not others taken alarm at the turn of affairs, he might have prevaricated till the time for action had passed. Ludovico, who was before all others responsible for the French expedition, was the first to be disillusioned. Alarmed at the open designs of the Duke of Orleans on Milan, he soon became as anxious for Charles' ruin as he had been eager for his success, and looked for assistance to his more powerful neighbours. But it was Ferdinand of Spain who really brought about Maximilian's change of policy, by holding out the tempting bait of a double marriage alliance with his House. The Emperor's[[52]] suspicions of Venice were overcome, and the Signoria became the centre of opposition to France. The various intrigues were conducted with such skill and secrecy, that even Comines, who then held the post of French Ambassador in Venice, was completely outwitted. But their details do not leave us with a favourable impression of the confederates' straightforwardness. The itch of the Republic's patriotic palm was allayed by a promise of the Apulian ports; while the Pope displayed to the full his talent for shifty intrigue and prevarication, and Maximilian kept up a stream of friendly assurances which effectively duped his young and incapable rival.
Thus the proclamation of the Holy League, between the Pope, Maximilian, Ferdinand, Ludovico and the Venetians, (March 31, 1495) came upon the French as a bolt from the blue. Its ostensible objects were to defend the Papacy, and to secure peace in Italy and mutual protection against the attacks of other Princes. But from the very first its members made little attempt to conceal their genuine aim—the expulsion of the French from the Peninsula. The massing of troops by each of the allies removed all doubts upon the subject; and Charles VIII. saw himself compelled to abandon Naples. On July 6, 1495, ne encountered the forces of the League at the battle of Fornovo, and after a running engagement made good his retreat westwards. Even then the German and Venetian troops might have inflicted serious losses on his armies ere they recrossed the Alps; but the treachery of Ludovico, who concluded a treaty with Charles without consulting any of his allies, forced them to retire and leave the French unmolested.
Meanwhile Maximilian was engaged at the famous Diet of Worms (26 March-August, 1495). Burning to strike a blow which might tend to the humiliation of his rival, he found himself once more, so to speak, the prisoner of his pocket. The Electors and the other Estates were determined that redress should precede supply, and stubbornly refused to grant a single florin, until the question of reform had been placed on a satisfactory basis. Nor can they be accused of any want of patriotism; for the interests of the Empire were by no means coincident with those of Austria. Indeed, had not Maximilian's territorial instincts triumphed so completely over his feelings as Emperor, he might have been the first to recognize the deep and sterling patriotism which inspired the Elector Berthold. As it was, his first intention had been to remain fourteen days at Worms, and, after obtaining the Diet's sanction for the Imperial levies, to conduct a vigorous campaign against the French. But here he was met by the practical impossibility of inducing a body mainly constituted for peace, to undertake a long and tedious war at a distance. The feudal system had fallen into decay, and the old military power of the Empire was no more. New circumstances demanded new measures; and the triumph achieved by a standing army in France pointed the direction which military reform should take. The proposal, then, which Maximilian laid before the Diet, was for a continuous money aid for ten or twelve years; with this he might form an army of landsknechts. But the Diet was wholly unsympathetic, and rigidly confined itself to schemes of reform. Meetings were sometimes held without any reference to the Emperor, and, as he indignantly exclaimed, he found himself treated with less consideration than some petty burgomaster. The struggle of parties lasted throughout the summer, Maximilian adopting a highly undignified attitude of sulking. On three occasions he was particularly pressing, especially in August, when Novara was threatened by the Swiss, and a mutiny of the lands-knechts might be expected, if their pay was not forthcoming. At last nothing was left for Maximilian but submission, and he accepted the Elector Berthold's proposals for reform. But Charles VIII. had already recrossed the Alps, and the time for action was past.