History of the Reign of Philip the Second, King of Spain, Vols. 1 and 2

by William Hickling Prescott

The French army met with no opposition in its passage through Piedmont. The king of Spain had ordered the government of Milan to strengthen the garrisons of the fortresses, but to oppose no resistance to the French, unless the latter began hostilities.[155] Some of the duke's counsellors would have persuaded him to do so. His father-in-law, the duke of Ferrara, in particular, who had brought him a reinforcement of six thousand troops, strongly pressed the French general to make sure of the Milanese before penetrating to the south; otherwise he would leave a dangerous enemy in his rear. The Italian urged, moreover, the importance of such a step in giving confidence to the Angevine faction in Naples, and in drawing over to France those states which hesitated as to their policy, or which had but lately consented to an alliance with Spain.

France, at this time, exercised but little influence in the counsels of the Italian powers. Genoa, after an ineffectual attempt at revolution, was devoted to Spain. The coöperation of Cosmo de'Medici, then lord of Tuscany, had been secured by the cession of Sienna. The duke of Parma, who had coquetted for some time with the French monarch, was won over to Spain by the restoration of Placentia, of which he had been despoiled by Charles the Fifth. His young son, Alexander Farnese, was sent as a hostage, to be educated under Philip's eye, at the court of Madrid,—the fruits of which training were to be gathered in the war of the Netherlands, where he proved himself the most consummate captain of his time. Venice, from her lonely watch-tower on the Adriatic, regarded at a distance the political changes of Italy, prepared to profit by any chances in her own favor. Her conservative policy, however, prompted her to maintain things as far as possible in their present position. She was most desirous that the existing equilibrium should not be disturbed by the introduction of any new power on the theatre of Italy; and she had readily acquiesced in the invitation of the duke of Alva, to mediate an accommodation between the contending parties. This pacific temper found little encouragement from the belligerent pontiff who had brought the war upon Italy.

The advice of the duke of Ferrara, however judicious in itself, was not relished by his son-in-law, the duke of Guise, who was anxious to press forward[{74}] to Naples as the proper scene of his conquests. The pope, too, called on him, in the most peremptory terms, to hasten his march, as Naples was the object of the expedition. The French commander had the address to obtain instructions to the same effect from his own court, by which he affected to be decided. His Italian father-in-law was so much disgusted by this determination, that he instantly quitted the camp, and drew off his six thousand soldiers, declaring that he needed all he could muster to protect his own states against the troops of Milan.[156]

Thus shorn of his Italian reinforcement, the duke of Guise resumed his march, and, entering the States of the Church, followed down the shores of the Adriatic, passing through Ravenna and Rimini; then, striking into the interior, he halted at Gesi, where he found good accommodations for his men and abundant forage for the horses.

Leaving his army in their pleasant quarters, he soon after repaired to Rome, in order to arrange with the pope the plan of the campaign. He was graciously received by Paul, who treated him with distinguished honor as the loyal champion of the Church. Emboldened by the presence of the French army in his dominions, the pope no longer hesitated to proclaim the renewal of the war against Spain. The Roman levies, scattered over the Campagna, assaulted the places but feebly garrisoned by the Spaniards. Most of them, including Tivoli and Ostia, were retaken; and the haughty bosom of the pontiff swelled with exultation as he anticipated the speedy extinction of the Spanish rule in Italy.

After some days consumed in the Vatican, Guise rejoined his army at Gesi. He was fortified by abundant assurances of aid from his holiness, and he was soon joined by one of Paul's nephews, the duke of Montebello, with a slender reinforcement. It was determined to cross the Neapolitan frontier at once, and to begin operations by the siege of Campli.

This was a considerable place, situated in the midst of a fruitful territory. The native population had been greatly increased by the influx of people from the surrounding country, who had taken refuge in Campli as a place of security. But they did little for its defence. It did not long resist the impetuosity of the French, who carried the town by storm. The men—all who made resistance—were put to the sword. The women were abandoned to the licentious soldiery. The houses, first pillaged, were then fired; and the once flourishing place was soon converted into a heap of smouldering ruins. The booty was great, for the people of the neighborhood had brought their effects thither for safety, and a large amount of gold and silver was found in the dwellings. The cellars, too, were filled with delicate wines; and the victors abandoned themselves to feasting and wassail, while the wretched citizens wandered like spectres amidst the ruins of their ancient habitations.[157]

SIEGE OF CIVITELLA.

The fate of Italy, in the sixteenth century, was hard indeed. She had advanced far beyond the age in most of the arts which belong to a civilized community. Her cities, even her smaller towns, throughout the country, displayed the evidences of architectural taste. They were filled with stately temples and elegant mansions; the squares were ornamented with fountains of elaborate workmanship; the rivers were spanned by arches of solid masonry. The private as well as public edifices were furnished with costly works of art, of which the value was less in the material than in the execution. A generation had scarcely passed since Michael Angelo and Raphael[{75}] had produced their miracles of sculpture and of painting; and now Correggio, Paul Veronese, and Titian were filling their country with those immortal productions which have been the delight and the despair of succeeding ages. Letters kept pace with art. The magical strains of Ariosto had scarcely died away when a greater bard had arisen in Tasso, to take up the tale of Christian chivalry. This extraordinary combination of elegant art and literary culture was the more remarkable, from the contrast presented by the condition of the rest of Europe, then first rising into the light of a higher civilization. But, with all this intellectual progress, Italy was sadly deficient in some qualities found among the hardier sons of the north, and which seem indispensable to a national existence. She could boast of her artists, her poets, her politicians; but of few real patriots, few who rested their own hopes on the independence of their country. The freedom of the old Italian republics had passed away. There was scarcely one that had not surrendered its liberties to a master. The principle of union for defence against foreign aggression was as little understood as the principle of political liberty at home. The states were jealous of one another. The cities were jealous of one another, and were often torn by factions within themselves. Thus their individual strength was alike ineffectual, whether for self-government or self-defence. The gift of beauty which Italy possessed in so extraordinary a degree only made her a more tempting prize to the spoiler, whom she had not the strength or the courage to resist. The Turkish corsair fell upon her coasts, plundered her maritime towns, and swept off their inhabitants into slavery. The Europeans, scarcely less barbarous, crossed the Alps, and, striking into the interior, fell upon the towns and hamlets that lay sheltered among the hills and in the quiet valleys, and converted them into heaps of ruins. Ill fares it with the land which, in an age of violence, has given itself up to the study of the graceful and the beautiful, to the neglect of those hardy virtues which can alone secure a nation's independence.

From the smoking ruins of Campli, Guise led his troops against Civitella, a town but a few miles distant. It was built round a conical hill, the top of which was crowned by a fortress well lined with artillery. It was an important place for the command of the frontier, and the duke of Alva had thrown into it a garrison of twelve hundred men under the direction of an experienced officer, the marquis of Santa Fiore. The French general considered that the capture of this post, so soon following the sack of Campli, would spread terror among the Neapolitans, and encourage those of the Angevine faction to declare openly in his favor.