Was Cæsar merely going straight before him, led by the insatiable ambition which lays hands upon all within its reach, or was he aiming at a distinct end, at the realization of a vast conception? Granting that he had no dreams of reconstituting the kingdom of Central Italy himself, Florence at least felt herself threatened. As long ago as his first campaign, when, after making himself master of Imola and Forli, he was still besieging Cesena preparatory to his entry into Pesaro and his progress to Rome by way of Urbino, the Florentine Republic had sent Soderini on a mission to him, to find out his intentions and his terms. The following year, with increased anxiety, as she felt herself approached more closely through the taking of Arezzo, which had fallen into the hands of Cæsar’s troops, she sent him Machiavelli, the most clear-sighted of her secretaries. The spectacle of these two champions face to face is one unique in history. From the day when he arrived in the camp, Machiavelli, who had recognized in the Duke of Valentinois a terrible adversary, felt that it was of vital interest to the state that he should not lose sight of him for a moment. As a point of fact, he never left his side up to the day when he saw him hunted down like a wild beast, vanquished by destiny, fettered beyond all power of doing harm to any one.
Of course, we may refuse to accept the verdict of the secretary of the Florentine Republic. Gregorovius, the celebrated author of the “History of the City of Rome in the Middle Ages,” goes so far as to say that it is a reproach to the memory of the founder of political science that he made a blood-stained adventurer like Cæsar the “Italian Messiah”—the precursor, in a word, of Italian unity. Again, P. Villari, in his fine work “N. Machiavelli e suoi tempi,” says that the Florentine secretary, though he was an eyewitness of the actual deeds of Valentinois, made of him an imaginary personage, to whom he attributed the great ideas by which he himself was animated.
Still, we have a right to point out that in history purpose is controlled by action. A great number of the heroic deeds and of the portentous decisions which have determined the lofty destiny of empires have not been the consequence of long premeditation; they have often been the result of the passions and desires of mankind, or simply that of the need of action natural to a vigorous mind. Undoubtedly the immediate object of Alexander VI was the aggrandizement of his children, and the increase of their territory; he cared only for the power of the Church insomuch as it augmented that of his own family, but the deeds accomplished by father and son contributed none the less to reconstitute the temporal dominion of the Church—a work which, after its completion by Julius II, was destined to continue for more than three centuries, from 1510 to 1860.
The ambitious Cæsar himself was turning aside the current for his own particular advantage. When Julius II assumed the triple crown, the officers who held the fortresses of Romagna with one accord refused to give them up to the Church, considering them as the lawful conquest and personal property of their leader. Machiavelli looked only at the results; this is the justification of the opinion which he expresses concerning Valentinois in his book, “Il Principe,” in the “Legazione,” the “Descrizione dei fatti di Romagna,” and the “Decennale.” He was present when these things were done; he calculated the effect of the events he witnessed. From his observation of Cæsar at work, he noted the strength of his will and the resources of his mind, his strategic talents, and his administrative faculty; and as within certain limits the acts of Valentinois tended toward a distinct goal, an ideal not unlike that at which he himself aimed, the Florentine secretary was not the man to be squeamish about ways and means. What did it matter to him whose hand struck at the despots of the petty principalities of Italy? What cared he about the personal ambition of the man who, after overthrowing them, busied himself at once with the organization of their states, gave them laws, kept them under stern discipline, and ended by winning the affections of the people?
Once the idea of union was accepted, a prince of more blameless private life would succeed Cæsar, and there was always so much progress made toward the realization of the great conception. The Sforza had fallen; the princes of the houses of Este and Mantua were not equal to such a task; Lorenzo de’ Medici was no soldier. Impatient to reach his end, Machiavelli cast his eyes around in vain; nowhere could he find a personality capable of great undertakings. Cæsar alone, with his youth and daring, quick to seize an opportunity, free from scruples, imposing by his magnificence—Cæsar, who always went straight to the very core of a matter, a consummate soldier, full of high purposes and lofty schemes—seemed the one man capable of aiming at the goal and attaining it. From that time forward, the secretary made him the incarnation of his ideal prince, removing from his character the hideous elements which lurked beneath the fair exterior of the skillful diplomate and hardy soldier.
Of these “high purposes” of which Machiavelli speaks we have also other proofs, without speaking of the, in a manner, prophetic declaration of the young cardinal who, at twenty, fixed his eyes on the example of the Roman Cæsar, and took as his motto “CUM NUMINE CÆSARIS OMEN.” Some of the contemporaries of the Duke of Valentinois have expressed themselves in distinct terms regarding him. We have here some real revelations of his personal intentions which are free from the après coup of the judgments pronounced by later historians. Speaking of the war which the Spaniards were carrying on to prevent the Pope from extending his dominions beyond the Neapolitan frontier, Signor Villari recognizes the fact that Alexander VI had declared his intention of making Italy “all one piece.” As for Cæsar, we read in the dispatches of Collenuccio, the ambassador of Ferrara, that Francesco Maria, Duke of Urbino, had taken into his service a secretary who had been for some time in Cæsar’s employ, and that this person averred that he had heard the Duke of Romagna say that he had “deliberately resolved to make himself King of Italy.” Here we have it in so many words.
As regards Machiavelli, could we collect in one page all the traits of character sketched from nature, scattered here and there in his dispatches to the Florentine Signoria, we should have a literary portrait of Valentinois, signed with the name of the most sagacious observer that ever honored Italian diplomacy. Cæsar had never learned the art of war, yet it would be impossible to pass with greater facility from the Consistory to the camp than he did. He was no mere warrior. Brave and impetuous as he was, he had more serious work in hand than the exchanging of sword-thrusts. He was at once a general, a strategist, and an administrator. Hardly had he taken a town when he made laws for it, and organized its administration; the breaches in its fortifications were repaired, and its defense and retention made as safe as if the conquest were final. No sooner had Imola, Forli, and Cesena fallen into his power, than he sent for Leonardo da Vinci to provide for a sufficient supply of water, to repair the fortresses, and to erect public monuments. He founded Monts de Piété, set up courts of justice, and did the work of civilization everywhere. The cities which fell under his sway never misunderstood his efforts; they looked back on the time of his supremacy with regret.
“This lord is ever noble and magnificent; when his sword is in his hand, his courage is so great that the most arduous undertakings seem easy to him; in the pursuit of glory or advantage he shrinks from no toil or fatigue. He has the good-will of his soldiers; he has secured the best troops in Italy: it is thus that he makes himself formidable and victorious. Add to this, that fortune is constantly favorable to him. He is of solitary habits, and he possesses craft, promptness, the spirit of order and good fortune; he has an extraordinary power of profiting by opportunity very secret (molto segreto). He controls himself with prudence; (gran conoscitore della occasione.”)
So Machiavelli warned the Florentines not to treat Cæsar “like the other barons, but as a new power in Italy, with whom they might conclude treaties and alliances, rather than offer him an appointment as condottiere.” The purely military element, which was Machiavelli’s speciality, did not escape the attention of the secretary. Once he had found the right man, the next requisite was the proper tool to work with—that is, the army; and so, when he saw these well-disciplined battalions, and the perfect order that reigned among them, the system of supplies secured by treaties, the regular equipment, and, above all, the formidable artillery, “in which department Cæsar alone is as strong as all the sovereigns of Italy put together,” the Secretary of the Republic recognized in Cæsar a born commander, for whom he prophesied the most lofty career.
Cæsar’s life was very short, and the vicissitudes of his fortune followed each other in rapid succession. In youth he was a murderer, in youth a conqueror, and in youth he died. His period of activity as a general extended from the autumn of 1499 to April, 1503, and his actual reign as Duke of Romagna lasted only two years.