Chapter XXXVI: Part 36

"At the end of the fifteenth century, Italy was the centre of
European civilization: while the other nations were still
plunged in a feudal barbarism which seems almost as far
removed from all our sympathies as is the condition of some
American or Polynesian savages, the Italians appear to us as
possessing habits of thought, a mode of life, political,
social, and literary institutions, not unlike those of to-day;
as men whom we can thoroughly understand, whose ideas and
aims, whose general views, resemble our own in that main,
indefinable characteristic of being modern. They had shaken
off the morbid monastic ways of feeling, they had thrown aside
the crooked scholastic modes of thinking, they had trampled
under foot the feudal institutions of the Middle Ages; no
symbolical mists made them see things vague, strange, and
distorted; their intellectual atmosphere was as clear as our
own, and, if they saw less than we do, what they did see
appeared to them in its true shape and proportions. Almost for
the first time since the ruin of antique civilization; they
could show well-organized, well-defined States; artistically
disciplined armies; rationally devised laws; scientifically
conducted agriculture; and widely extended, intelligently
undertaken commerce. For the first time, also, they showed
regularly built, healthy, and commodious towns; well-drained
fields; and, more important than all, hundreds of miles of
country owned not by feudal lords, but by citizens; cultivated
not by serfs, but by free peasants. While in the rest of
Europe men were floundering among the stagnant ideas and
crumbling institutions of the effete Middle Ages, with but
vague half-consciousness of their own nature, the Italians
walked calmly through a life as well arranged as their great
towns, bold, inquisitive, and sceptical; modern
administrators, modern soldiers, modern politicians, modern
financiers, scholars, and thinkers. Towards the end of the
fifteenth century, Italy seemed to have obtained the
philosophic, literary, and artistic inheritance of Greece; the
administrative, legal, and military inheritance of Rome,
increased threefold by her own strong, original, essentially
modern activities. Yet, at that very time, and almost in
proportion as all these advantages developed, the moral
vitality of the Italians was rapidly decreasing, and a
horrible moral gangrene beginning to spread: liberty was
extinguished; public good faith seemed to be dying out; even
private morality flickered ominously; every free State became
subject to a despot, always unscrupulous and often infamous;
warfare became a mere pretext for the rapine and extortions of
mercenaries; diplomacy grew to be a mere swindle; the
humanists inoculated literature with the filthiest refuse cast
up by antiquity; nay, even civic and family ties were
loosened; assassinations and fratricides began to abound, and
all law, human and divine, to be set at defiance. … The men
of the Renaissance had to pay a heavy price for …
intellectual freedom and self-cognizance, which they not only
enjoyed themselves, but transmitted to the rest of the world;
the price was the loss of all moral standard, of all fixed
public feeling. They had thrown aside all accepted rules and
criteria, they had cast away all faith in traditional
institutions, they had destroyed and could not yet rebuild. In
their instinctive and universal disbelief in all that had been
taught them, they lost all respect for opinion, for rule, for
what had been called right and wrong. Could it be otherwise?
Had they not discovered that what had been called right had
often been unnatural, and what had been called wrong often
natural? Moral teachings, remonstrances, and judgments
belonged to that dogmatism from which they had broken loose;
to those schools and churches where the foolish and the
unnatural had been taught and worshiped; to those priests and
monks who themselves most shamefully violated their teachings.
To profess morality was to be a hypocrite; to reprobate others
was to be narrow-minded. There was so much error mixed up with
truth that truth had to share the discredit of error."

_Vernon Lee,
Euphorion,
volume 1, pages 27-29, 47-48._

"The conditions under which the Italians performed their task
in the Renaissance were such as seem at first sight
unfavourable to any great achievement. Yet it is probable
that, the end in view being the stimulation of mental
activity; no better circumstances than they enjoyed could have
been provided. Owing to a series of adverse accidents, and
owing also to their own instinctive preference for local
institutions, they failed to attain the coherence and the
centralised organisation which are necessary to a nation as we
understand that word. Their dismemberment among rival
communities proved a fatal source of political and military
weakness, but it developed all their intellectual energies by
competition to the utmost. At the middle of the fifteenth
century their communes had lost political liberty, and were
ruled by despots. Martial spirit declined. Wars were carried
on by mercenaries; and the people found itself in a state of
practical disarmament, when the neighboring nations quarrelled
for the prize of those rich provinces. At the same time
society underwent a rapid moral deterioration. When
Machiavelli called Italy 'the corruption of the world,' he did
not speak rhetorically. An impure and worldly clergy; an
irreligious, though superstitious, laity; a self-indulgent and
materialistic middle class; an idle aristocracy, excluded from
politics and unused to arms; a public given up to pleasure and
money-getting; a multitude of scholars, devoted to trifles,
and vitiated by studies which clashed with the ideals of
Christianity—from such elements in the nation proceeded a
widely-spread and ever-increasing degeneracy. Public energy,
exhausted by the civil wars and debilitated by the arts of the
tyrants, sank deep and deeper into the lassitude of
acquiescent lethargy. Religion expired in laughter, irony and
licence. Domestic simplicity yielded to vice, whereof the
records are precise and unmistakable. The virile virtues
disappeared. What survived of courage assumed the forms of
ruffianism, ferocity and treasonable daring. Still,
simultaneously with this decline in all the moral qualities
which constitute a powerful people, the Italians brought their
arts and some departments of their literature to a perfection
that can only be paralleled by ancient Greece. The anomaly
implied in this statement is striking; but it is revealed to
us by evidence too overwhelming to be rejected. … It was
through art that the creative instincts of the people found
their true and adequate channel of expression.
{1835}
Paramount over all other manifestations of the epoch,
fundamental beneath all, penetrative to the core of all, is
the artistic impulse. The slowly self-consolidating life of a
great kingdom, concentrating all elements of national
existence by the centripetal force of organic unity, was
wanting. Commonwealths and despotisms, representing a more
imperfect stage of political growth, achieved completion and
decayed. But art survived this disintegration of the medieval
fabric; and in art the Italians found the cohesion denied them
as a nation. While speaking thus of art, it is necessary to
give a wide extension to that word. It must be understood to
include literature. … We are justified in regarding the
literary masterpieces of the sixteenth century as the fullest
and most representative expression of the Italian temperament
at the climax of its growth. The literature of the golden age
implies humanism, implies painting. … It is not only
possible but right to speak of Italy collectively when we
review her work in the Renaissance. Yet it should not be
forgotten that Italy at this time was a federation, presenting
upon a miniature scale the same diversities in her component
parts as the nations of Europe do now. … At the beginning of
such a review, we cannot fail to be struck with the
predominance of Florence. The superiority of the Tuscans was
threefold. In the first place, they determined the development
of art in all its branches. In the second place, they gave a
language to Italy, which, without obliterating the local
dialects, superseded them in literature when the right moment
for intellectual community arrived. That moment, in the third
place, was rendered possible by the humanistic movement, which
began at Florence. … What the Lombards and Venetians
produced in fine art and literature was of a later birth. Yet
the novelists of Lombardy, the Latin lyrists of Garda, the
school of romantic and dramatic poets at Ferrara, the group of
sculptors and painters assembled in Milan by the Sforza
dynasty, the maccaronic Muse of Mantua, the unrivalled
magnificence of painting at Venice, the transient splendour of
the Parmese masters, the wit of Modena, the learning of the
princes of Mirandola and Carpi, must be catalogued among the
most brilliant and characteristic manifestations of Italian
genius. In pure literature Venice contributed but little. …
Her place, as the home of Aldo's Greek press, and as the
refuge for adventurers like Aretino and Folengo, when the rest
of Italy was yielding to reactionary despotism, has to be
commemorated. … The Romans who advanced Italian culture,
were singularly few. The work of Rome was done almost
exclusively by aliens, drawn for the most part from Tuscany
and Lombardy. After Frederick II.'s brilliant reign, the
Sicilians shared but little in the intellectual activity of
the nation."

_J. A. Symonds,
Renaissance in Italy: Italian Literature,
chapter 17._

ITALY: A. D. 1501-1504.
Perfidious treaty for the partition of Naples between Louis
XII. of France and Ferdinand of Aragon.
Their joint conquest.
Their quarrel and war.
The French expelled.
The Spaniards in possession.

"In the spring of 1501, the French army was ready to pursue
its march to Naples. King Frederick, alarmed at the storm
which was gathering round his head, had some months before
renewed the propositions formerly made by his father Ferdinand
to Charles VIII.; namely, to acknowledge himself a feudatory
of France, to pay an annual tribute, and to pledge several
maritime towns as security for the fulfilment of these
conditions. Louis, however, would not hear of these liberal
offers, although Ferdinand the Catholic [of Aragon] undertook
to guarantee the payment of the tribute proffered by
Frederick, and strongly remonstrated against the contemplated
expedition of the French King. Ferdinand finding that he could
not divert Louis from his project, proposed to him to divide
Naples between them, and a partition was arranged by a treaty
concluded between the two monarchs at Granada, November 11th,
1500. Naples, the Terra di Lavoro, and the Abruzzi were
assigned to Louis, with the title of King of Naples and
Jerusalem; while Ferdinand was to have Calabria and Apulia
with the title of Duke." This perfidious arrangement was kept
secret, of course, from Frederick. "Meanwhile the forces of
Ferdinand, under Gonsalvo of Cordova [the 'Great Captain,' as
he was styled after his Italian campaign], were admitted as
friends into the Neapolitan fortresses, which they afterwards
held as enemies. Frederick opened to them without suspicion
his ports and towns, and thus became the instrument of his own
ruin. The unhappy Frederick had in vain looked around for
assistance. He had paid the Emperor Maximilian 40,000 ducats
to make a diversion in his favour by attacking Milan, but
Maximilian was detached from the Neapolitan alliance by a
counter bribe, and consented to prolong the truce with France.
Frederick had then had recourse to Sultan Bajazet II., with as
little effect; and this application only served to throw an
odium on his cause. … The French army, which did not exceed
13,000 men, began its march towards Naples about the end of
May, 1501, under the command of Stuart d'Aubigny, with Cæsar
Borgia [son of Pope Alexander VI.] for his lieutenant. When it
arrived before Rome, June 25th, the French and Spanish
ambassadors acquainted the Pope with the treaty of Granada,
and the contemplated partition of Naples, in which the
suzerainty of this kingdom was guaranteed to the Holy See; a
communication which Alexander received with more surprise than
displeasure, and he proceeded at once to invest the Kings of
France and Aragon with the provinces which they respectively
claimed. Attacked in front by the French, in the rear by
Gonsalvo, Frederick did not venture to take the field. He
cantoned his troops in Naples, Averso, and Capua, of which the
last alone made any attempt at defence. It was surprised by
the French while in the act of treating for a capitulation
(July 24th), and was subjected to the most revolting cruelty;
7,000 of the male inhabitants were massacred in the streets;
the women were outraged; and forty of the handsomest reserved
for Borgia's harem at Rome; where they were in readiness to
amuse the Court at the extraordinary and disgusting fete given
at the fourth marriage of Lucretia. Rather than expose his
subjects to the horrors of a useless war, Frederick entered
into negociations with d'Aubigny, with the view of
surrendering himself to Louis XII. … In October, 1501, he
sailed for France with a small squadron, which remained to him.
{1836}
In return for his abandonment of the provinces assigned to the
French King, he was invested with the county of Maine, and a
life pension of 30,000 ducats, on condition that he should not
attempt to quit France; a guard was set over him to enforce
the latter proviso, and this excellent prince died in
captivity in 1504. Meanwhile Gonsalvo of Cordova was
proceeding with the reduction of Calabria and Apulia. … The
Spaniards entered Taranto March 1st, 1502; the other towns of
southern Italy were soon reduced, and the Neapolitan branch of
the House of Aragon fell for ever, after reigning 65 years. In
the autumn of 1501, Louis had entered into negociations with
the Emperor, in order to obtain formal investiture of the
Duchy of Milan. With this view, Louis's daughter Claude, then
only two years of age, was affianced to Charles [afterwards
the Emperor, Charles V.], grandson of Maximilian, the infant
child of the Archduke Philip and Joanna of Aragon. A treaty
was subsequently signed at Trent, October 13th, 1501, by
Maximilian and the Cardinal d'Amboise, to which the Spanish
sovereigns find the Archduke Philip were also parties. By this
instrument Louis engaged, in return for the investiture of
Milan, to recognise the pretensions of the House of Austria to
Hungary and Bohemia, and to second Maximilian in an expedition
which he contemplated against the Turks. It was at this
conference that those schemes against Venice began to be
agitated, which ultimately produced the League of Cambray. The
treaty between Louis and Ferdinand for the partition of Naples
was so loosely drawn, that it seemed purposely intended to
produce the quarrels which occurred." Disputes arose as to the
possession of a couple of provinces, and the Spaniards were
driven out. "In the course of 1502 the Spaniards were deprived
of everything, except Barletta and a few towns on the coast of
Bari. It was in the combats round this place that Bayard, by
his deeds of courage and generosity, won his reputation as the
model of chivalry, and became the idol of the French
soldiery." The crafty and unscrupulous king of Aragon now
amused Louis with the negotiation of a treaty for the
relinquishment of the whole Neapolitan domain to the lately
affianced infants, Charles of Austria and Claude of France,
while he diligently reinforced the "Great Captain." Then
"Gonsalvo suddenly resumed the offensive with extraordinary
vigour and rapidity, and within a week two decisive battles
were fought"—at Seminara, in Calabria, April 21, 1503, and at
Cerignola, near Barletta, April 28. In the last named battle
the French army was dispersed and almost destroyed. On the
14th of May, Gonsalvo entered Naples, and by the end of July
the French had completely evacuated the Neapolitan territory.
The king of France made prompt preparations for vigorous war,
not only in Naples but in Spain itself, sending two armies to
the Pyrenees and one across the Alps. The campaign of the
latter was ruined by Cardinal d'Amboise, who stopped its march
near Rome, to support his candidacy for the papal chair, just
vacated by the death of Alexander VI. Malaria made havoc in
the ranks of the French, and they were badly commanded. They
advanced to the seat of war in October, and forced the passage
of the Garigliano, November 9. "Here their progress was
arrested. … The seasons themselves were hostile to the
French; heavy rains set in with a constancy quite unusual in
that climate; and the French soldiers perished by hundreds in
the mud and swamps of the Garigliano. The Spanish army,
encamped near Sessa, was better supplied and better
disciplined; and at length, after two months of inaction,
Gonsalvo, having received some reinforcements, assumed the
offensive, and in his turn crossed the river. The French,
whose quarters were widely dispersed, were not prepared for
this attack, and attempted to fall back upon Gaeta; but their
retreat soon became a disorderly flight; many threw down their
arms without striking a blow; and hence the affair has
sometimes been called the rout of the Garigliano [December 29,
1503]. Peter de' Medici, who was following the French army,
perished in this retreat. … Very few of the French army
found their way back to France. Gaeta surrendered at the first
summons, January 1st, 1504. This was the most important of all
Gonsalvo's victories, as it completed the conquest of Naples.
The two attacks on Spain had also miscarried. … A truce of
five months was concluded, November 15th, which was
subsequently converted into a peace of three years."

_T. H. Dyer,
History of Modern Europe,
book 1, chapters 5-6 (volume 1)._

ALSO IN:
_L. von Ranke,
History of the Latin and Teutonic Nations, 1494-1514,
book 1, chapter 4,
and book 2, chapter 1._

_T. A. Trollope,
History of the Commonwealth of Florence,
book 9, chapters 8-9 (volume 4)._

_M. J. Quintana,
The Great Captain
(Lives of Celebrated Spaniards) _

_G. P. R. James,
Memoirs of Great Commanders,
volume 1: Gonzalvez de Cordoba._

_L. Larchey,
History of Bayard,
book 2._

ITALY: A. D. 1504-1506.
The Treaties of Blois.
Tortuous diplomacy of Louis XII.
His double renunciation of Naples.

"There was danger [to Louis XII. of France] that the loss of
the Milanese should follow that of the kingdom of Naples.
Maximilian was already preparing to assert his imperial rights
beyond the Alps, and Gonsalvo de Cordova was marching toward
the northern part of the peninsula. Louis XII. divided and
disarmed his enemies by three treaties, signed at Blois on the
same day (1504). By the first Louis and Maximilian agreed to
attack Venice, and to divide the spoil; by the second Louis
promised the king of the Romans 200,000 francs in return for
the investiture of the Milanese; by the third he renounced the
kingdom of Naples in favor of Maximilian's grandson Charles,
who was to marry Claude,' daughter of Louis XII., and receive
as her dowry three French provinces,—Burgundy, Brittany, and
Blois. A more disastrous agreement could not have been made.
Charles was to obtain by inheritance from his father, Philip
the Handsome, the Netherlands; from his mother, Castile; from
his paternal grandfather, Austria; from his maternal
grandfather, Aragon. And now he was assured of Italy, and
France was to be dismembered for him. This was virtually
giving him the empire of Europe. France protested, and Louis
XII. seized the first occasion to respond to her wishes. He
found it in 1505, when Ferdinand the Catholic married Germaine
de Foix, niece of Louis XII. Louis by treaty made a second
cession of his rights over the kingdom of Naples to his niece,
thus breaking one of the principal conditions of his treaty
with Maximilian. He convoked the States-General at Tours in
order openly to break the others (1506).
{1837}
The Assembly declared that the fundamental law of the state
did not permit alienations of the domains of the crown, and
besought the king to give his daughter in marriage to his heir
presumptive, Francis, Duke of Angoulême, in order to insure
the integrity of the territory and the independence of France.
Louis XII. found little difficulty in acceding to their
request. Maximilian and Ferdinand were at the time unable to
protest."

_V. Duruy,
History of France,
chapter 38._

ITALY: A. D. 1508-1509.
The League of Cambrai against Venice.
The continental provinces of the Republic torn away.

See VENICE: A. D. 1508-1509.

ITALY: A. D. 1510-1513.
Dissolution of the League of Cambrai and formation of the Holy
League against France.
The French expelled from Milan and all Italy.
Restoration of the Medici.
Recovery of Venetian territories.

As the League of Cambrai began to weaken and fall in pieces,
the vigorous republic of Venice "came forth again, retook
Padua, and kept it through a long and terrible siege, at last
forcing the Emperor to withdraw and send back his French
allies. The Venetians recovered Vicenza, and threatened
Verona; Maximilian, once more powerless, appealed to France to
defend his conquests. Thus things stood [1510] when Julius II.
made peace with Venice and began to look round him for allies
against Louis XII. He negotiated with the foreign kings; but
that was only in order thereby to neutralise their influence,
sowing discord among them; it was on the Swiss mercenaries
that he really leant. Now that he had gained all he wanted on
the northern frontier of the States of the Church, he thought
that he might safely undertake the high duty of protecting
Italy against the foreigner: he would accomplish what Cæsar
Borgia had but dreamed of doing, he would chase the Barbarian
from the sacred soil of culture. … He 'thanked God,' when he
heard of the death of the Cardinal of Amboise, 'that now he
was Pope alone!' … He at once set himself to secure the
Swiss, and found a ready and capable agent in Matthew
Schynner, Bishop of Sion in the Valais. … Bishop Schynner
was rewarded for this traffic with a cardinal's hat. And now,
deprived by death of the guiding hand [of Cardinal d'Amboise],
Louis XII. began to follow a difficult and dangerous line of
policy: he called a National Council at Tours, and laid before
it, as a case of conscience, the question whether he might
make war on the Pope. The Council at once declared for the
King, distinguishing, as well they might under Julius II.,
between the temporal and the spiritual in the Papacy, and
declaring that any papal censure that might be launched would
be null and void. Above all, an appeal was made to a General
Council. … Meanwhile war went on in Italy. A broadly-planned
attack on the Milanese, on Genoa, and Ferrara, concerted by
Julius II. with the Venetians and Swiss, had come to nothing.
Now the warlike pontiff—one knows his grim face from
Raphael's picture, and his nervous grasp of the arms of his
chair, as though he were about to spring forward into
action—took the field in person. At Bologna he fell ill; they
thought he would die; and Chaumont of Amboise was marching up
with the French at his heels to surround and take him there.
But by skilful treating with the French general Julius gained
time, till a strong force of Venetians had entered Bologna.
Then the Pope rose from his sick-bed, in the dead of winter,
1511, and marched out to besiege Mirandola," which
capitulated. "Bayard soon after attacked him, and all but took
him prisoner. A congress at Mantua followed: but the Pope
sternly refused to make terms with the French: the war must go
on. Then Louis took a dangerous step. He convoked an
ecclesiastical council at Pisa, and struck a medal to express
his contempt and hatred for Julius II. … The Pope had gone
back to Rome, and Bologna had opened her gates to the French;
the coming council, which should depose Julius, was proclaimed
through Northern Italy. But, though the moment seemed
favourable, nothing but a real agreement of the European
powers could give success to such a step. And how far men were
from such an agreement Louis was soon to learn; for Julius,
finding that the French did not invade the States of the
Church, resumed negociations with such success that in October
1511 a 'Holy League' was formed between the Pope, Venice,
Ferdinand of Aragon, and Henry VIII. of England. Maximilian
wavered and doubted; the Swiss were to be had—on payment. At
first Louis showed a bold front; in spite of this strange
whirl of the wheel of politics from the League of Cambrai to
the Holy League, he persevered, giving the command of Milan to
his nephew, Gaston of Foix, Duke of Nemours, a man of 23
years, the most promising of his younger captains. He relieved
Bologna, seized Brescia, and pillaged it [1512]; and then
pushed on to attack Ravenna; it is said that the booty of
Brescia was so great that the French soldiers, having made
their fortunes, deserted in crowds, and left the army much
weakened. With this diminished force Gaston found himself
caught between the hostile walls of Ravenna, and a relieving
force of Spaniards, separated from him only by a canal. The
Spaniards, after their usual way of warfare, made an
entrenched camp round their position. The French first tried
to take the city by assault; but being driven back, determined
to attack the Spanish camp." They made the assault [on Easter
Day, 1512] and took the camp, with great slaughter; but in his
reckless pursuit of the retreating enemy Gaston de Foix was
slain. "The death of the young Prince more than balanced the
great victory of the day: for with Gaston, as Guicciardini
says, perished all the vigour of the French army. … Though
Ravenna was taken, the French could no longer support
themselves. Their communications with Milan were threatened by
the Swiss: they left garrisons in the strong places and fell
back. The council of Pisa also had to take refuge at Milan.
When the Swiss came down from their mountain-passes to restore
the Sforza dynasty, the harassed council broke up from Milan,
and fled to Lyons; there it lingered a while, but it had
become contemptible; anon it vanished into thin air. The Pope
retook Bologna, Parma, Piacenza; the Medici returned to
Florence [see FLORENCE: A. D. 1502-1569]; Maximilian Sforza
was re-established [see MILAN: A. D. 1512], while the Grisons
Leagues received the Valteline as their reward: the English
annoyed the coast without any decisive result. … Ferdinand
seized Navarre, which henceforward became Spanish to the
Pyrenees.
{1838}
Before winter, not one foot of Italian soil remained to the
French. Julius II., the formidable centre of the Alliance,
died at this moment (1513). … The allies secured the
election of a Medicean Pope, Leo X., a pontiff hostile to
France, and certain not to reverse that side of his
predecessor's policy. … Louis, finding himself menaced on
every side, suddenly turned about and offered his friendship
to Venice. … Natural tendencies overbore all resentments on
both sides, and a treaty between them both guaranteed the
Milanese to Louis and gave him a strong force of Venetian
soldiers. Meanwhile, Ferdinand had come to terms with
Maximilian and boyish Henry VIII., who … had framed a scheme
for the overthrow of France. The French king, instead of
staying at home to defend his frontiers, was eager to retake
Milan, and to join hands with the Venetians. … But the Swiss
round Maximilian Sforza defended him without fear or
treachery; and catching the French troops under La Trémoille
in a wretched position not far from Novara, attacked and
utterly defeated them (1513). The French withdrew beyond the
Alps; the Venetians were driven off with great loss by the
Spaniards, who ravaged their mainland territories down to the
water's edge. For the short remainder of his life Louis XII.
had no leisure again to try his fortunes in Italy: he was too
busy elsewhere."

_G. W. Kitchin,
History of France,
volume 2, book 2, chapter 3._

ALSO IN:
_P. Villari,
Life and Times of Machiavelli,
book 1, chapters 12-14 (volume 3)._

_M. Creighton,
History of the Papacy,
book 5, chapters 15-16 (volume 4)._

_L. von Ranke,
History of the Latin and Teutonic Nations
from 1494 to 1514,
book 2, chapter 3._

_Sir R. Comyn,
History of the Western Empire,
chapters 37-38 (volume 2)._

_L. Larchey,
History of Bayard,
book 2, chapters 21-44._

H. E. Napier,
Florentine History,
book 2, chapter 9 (volume 4).

ITALY: A. D. 1515-1516.
Invasion and reconquest of Milan by Francis I.
His treaty with the Pope.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1515; and 1515-1518.

ITALY: A. D. 1516-1517.
Abortive attempt against Milan by the Emperor, Maximilian.
His peace with Venice and surrender of Verona.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1516-1517.

ITALY: A. D. 1520-1542.
Early Reformation movements
and their want of popular support.
The Council of Trent.

See PAPACY: A. D. 1537-1563.

ITALY: A. D. 1521-1522.
Re-expulsion of the French from Milan.
The treason of the Constable Bourbon.
His appointment to the command of the Imperial army.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1520-1523.

ITALY: A. D. 1523-1527.
The double dealings of Pope Clement VII.
Invasion of Milanese by Francis I. and his defeat and capture
at Pavia.
The Holy League against Charles V.
The attack on Rome by Constable Bourbon.

Giulio de' Medici, natural son of Guiliano de' Medici, and
cousin of Leo X., had succeeded Adrian VI. in the Papacy in
1523, under the name of Clement VII. "Nothing could have been
more unfortunate than the new Pope's first steps on the
zig-zag path which he proposed to follow. Becoming alarmed at
the preponderating power of Charles [the Fifth, Emperor, King
of Spain and Naples; Duke of Burgundy, and ruler of all the
Netherlands, in 1524 be entered into a league with Francis
[the First, king of France];

See AUSTRIA: A. D. 1496-1526;
and GERMANY: A. D. 1519.

but scarcely had this been concluded when the memorable battle
of Pavia resulting in the entire defeat of the French, on the
24th of February, 1525, and the captivity of the French king,
frightened him back again into seeking anew the friendship of
Charles, in April of that year.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1523-1525

Each of these successive treaties was of course duly sworn to
and declared inviolable; but it could hardly be expected that
he who exercised the power of annulling other men's oaths
would submit to be bound by his own, when the observance of
them became inconvenient. Clement accordingly was not
prevented by the solemn treaty of April, 1525, from conspiring
against his new ally in the July following. The object of this
conspiracy was to induce Ferdinando Francesco d'Avalos,
Marquis of Pescara, who commanded the army of Charles V.
before Milan, to revolt against his sovereign, and join the
Italians in an attempt to put an end for ever to Spanish sway
in Italy. … But the Spanish general had no sooner secured
clear evidence of the plans of the conspirators, by pretending
to listen to their proposals, than he reported the whole to
Charles. The miscarriage of this scheme, and the exposure
consequent upon it, necessarily threw the vacillating and
terrified Pontiff once more into the arms of Francis. 'The
Most Christian'—as the old Italian historians often
elliptically call the Kings of France—obtained his release
from his Madrid prison by promising on oath, on the 17th of
January, 1526, all that Charles, driving a hard bargain, chose
to demand of him.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1525-1526.

And Clement hastened to prove the sincerity of his renewed
friendship by a professional contribution to the success of
their new alliance, in the welcome shape of a plenary
absolution from all observance of the oaths so sworn. … On
the 22nd of May following [at Cognac], the Pope entered into a
formal league with Francis [called 'Holy' for the reason that
the Pope was a party to it]. Venice joined her troops to those
of the Ecclesiastical States, and they marched together to the
support of the Milanese, who had risen in revolt against the
Emperor. Assistance had also been promised by Henry of
England, who had stipulated, however, that he should not be
named as a party to the alliance, but only considered as its
protector. This was the most strenuous and most united attempt
Italy had yet made to rid herself of the domination of the
stranger, and patriotic hopes beat high in several Italian
hearts. … It may be easily imagined that the 'Most Catholic'
monarch [Charles V.] felt towards Clement at this time in a
manner which led him to distinguish very nicely between the
infallible head of the universal Church and the sovereign of
the Ecclesiastical States. … Though he retained the utmost
respect and reverence for the vicegerent of heaven, he thought
that a little correction administered to the sovereign of Rome
would not be amiss, and nothing could be easier than to find
means ready to his hand for the infliction of it. The Colonnas
were of course ready for a rebellion on the slightest
encouragement. … So when Don Ugo di Moncada, Charles's
general at Naples, proposed to the Colonnas to join him in a
little frolic at Clement's expense, the noble and most
reverend members of that powerful family jumped at the
proposal. … The united forces of the Viceroy and the
Colonnas accordingly one morning entered Rome, altogether
without opposition, and marched at once to the Vatican.
{1839}
They completely sacked, not only the Pope's palace, and the
residences of many gentlemen and prelates, but also, says the
historian [Varchi], 'with unheard-of avarice and impiety,'
robbed the sacristy of St. Peter of everything it contained.
Clement had barely time to escape into the castle of St.
Angelo; but as he found there neither soldiers nor ammunition,
nor even food for above three days, … he consented to a
treaty by which the Pope agreed to pardon the Colonnas freely
for all they had done against him; to take no steps to revenge
himself on them; to withdraw his troops from Lombardy; and to
undertake nothing in any way, or under any pretext, against
the Emperor." As a hostage for the fulfilment of this treaty,
Pope Clement gave his dear friend Filippo Strozzi; but no
sooner was he delivered from his captors than he hired seven
"black companies" of adventurers and 2,000 Swiss, and began a
furious war of extermination upon the Colonnas and all their
dependents. At the same time he wrote private letters to the
heads of his "Holy League," "warning them to pay no heed to
any statement respecting a treaty made by him with the
Emperor, and assuring them of his intention to carry on the
war with the utmost energy." A little later, however, this
remarkable Holy Father found it convenient to make another
treaty with the Viceroy of Naples, for the release of his
friend Strozzi, which bound him still more to friendly
relations with the Emperor. This latter treaty, of March,
1527, "would seem in some sort to imply the reconciliation
once again of the Pope and the Emperor." But Charles had
already set forces in motion for the chastisement of the
faithless Pope and his allies, which either he could not or
did not care to arrest. "The Constable Bourbon, whom the gross
injustice of Francis I., and the intolerable persecution of
his infamous mother, Louise de Savoie, had driven to abandon
his country and allegiance [see FRANCE: A. D. 1520-1523], …
was now … marching southwards, with the imperial troops, to
chastise the different members of the League against the
Emperor, which Clement, as has been seen, had formed. George
Frundsberg, a German leader of reputation, had also crossed
the Alps with 15,000 men,—'all Lutherans and Lanzknechts,' as
the Italians write with horror and dismay,—and had joined
these forces to the Spaniards under Bourbon. … The combined
force was in all respects more like a rabble rout of brigands
and bandits than an army; and was assuredly such as must, even
in those days, have been felt to be a disgrace to any
sovereign permitting them to call themselves his soldiers.
Their pay was, as was often the case with the troops of
Charles V., hopelessly in arrear, and discipline was of course
proportionably weak among them. … The progress southward of
this bandit army … filled the cities exposed to their inroad
with terror and dismay. They had passed like a destroying
locust swarm over Bologna and Imola, and crossing the
Apennines, which separate Umbria from Tuscany, had descended
into the valley of the Arno not far from Arezzo. Florence and
Rome both trembled. On which would the storm burst? That was
the all-absorbing question. Pope Clement, with his usual
avarice-blinded imbecility, had, immediately on concluding the
above-mentioned treaty with the Neapolitan viceroy, discharged
all his troops except a body-guard of about 600 men. Florence
was nearly in as defenceless a position"; but a small army of
the League, under the Duke of Urbino, was at Incisa, and it
was "probably the presence of this army, little as it had
hitherto done to impede the progress of the enemy, which
decided Bourbon eventually to determine on marching towards
Rome. It seems doubtful how far they were in so doing,
executing the orders, or carrying out the wishes, of the
Emperor. … Upon the whole we are warranted in supposing that
Bourbon and Frundsberg would hardly have ventured on the
course they took, if they had not had reason to believe that
it would not much displease their master. … On the 5th of
May [1527] Bourbon arrived beneath the walls of Rome. … On
the evening of the 6th of May the city was stormed and given
over to the unbridled cupidity and brutality of the soldiers.
… Bourbon himself had fallen in the first moments of the
attack."

_T. A. Trollope,
History of the Commonwealth of Florence,
book 10, chapter 3 (volume 4)._

ALSO IN:
_T. A. Trollope,
Filippo Strozzi,
chapter 7._

_W. Robertson,
History of the Reign of Charles V.,
book 4 (volume 2)._

_L. von Ranke,
History of the Reformation in Germany,
book 4, chapters 1-3._

ITALY: A. D. 1527.
The Sack of Rome by the Spanish and German Imperialists.

"Bourbon fell at the first assault; but by evening the Vatican
suburb was in the hands of the enemy. Clement, who was even
best informed of the state of things, had not anticipated such
an issue. He scarcely saved himself by flight from the Vatican
to the castle of St. Angelo, whither the fugitive population
hurried, as the shipwrecked crew of an entire fleet hastens to
a single boat which cannot receive them. In the midst of the
thronging stream of men, the portcullis was lowered. Whoever
remained without was lost. Benvenuto Cellini was at that time
in Rome, and was among the defenders of the walls. He boasted
that his ball had destroyed Bourbon. He stole fortunately into
the citadel, before it was closed, and entered the Pope's
service as bombardier. Even at this last moment, Clement might
have saved Rome itself, which, situated on the opposite shore
of the river, had not yet been entered by the enemy. They
offered to spare it for a ransom; but finding this too high,
and awaiting hourly Urbino's army, to which, though nothing
was yet to be seen of it, he looked as a deliverer in the time
of need, he would hear nothing of it. And thus the undefended
city fell into the hands of the imperialists. Almost without
resistance they entered Trastevere, a small quarter of the
city lying to the west of the Tiber; and then crossing the
bridges, which no one had demolished, they pressed forwards
into the heart of Rome. It was the depth of the night.
Benvenuto Cellini was stationed on the tower of the castle of
St. Angelo, at the foot of the colossal angel, and saw the
flames bursting forth in the darkness, and heard the sorrowful
cry all around. For it was late before the soldiers began to
cast off all restraint. They had entered quietly. The Germans
stood in battalions. But when they saw the Spaniards broken up
and plundering, the desire was aroused in them also; and now a
spirit of emulation appeared, as to which nation could outdo
the other in cruelty. The Spaniards, it is asserted by
impartial Italians, carried the day.
{1840}
There had been no siege, no bombardment, no flight of any
great extent; but as if the earth had opened, and had
disgorged a legion of devils, so suddenly came these hosts.
Everything was in a moment abandoned to them. We must
endeavour to conceive what kind of men these German soldiers
were. They formed an intermediate class between the prime and
the refuse of the people. Gathered together by the hope of
booty, indifferent what end was assigned them, rendered wild
by hunger and tardy pay, left without a master after the death
of their commander, they found themselves unrestrained in the
most luxurious city of the world—a city abounding with gold
and riches, and at the same time decried for centuries in
Germany, as the infernal nest of the popes, who lived there as
incarnate devils, in the midst of their Babylonian doings. The
opinion that the pope of Rome, and Clement VII. in particular,
was the devil, prevailed not only in Germany, but in Italy and
in Rome the people called him so. In the midst of plague and
famine he had doubled the taxes and raised the price of bread.
What with the Romans, however, was an invective arising from
indignation, was an article of faith among the Germans. They
believed they had to do with the real antichrist, whose
destruction would be a benefit to Christendom. We must
remember, if we would understand this fury of the German
soldiery, in whose minds, as in those of all Germans, Lutheran
ideas at that time prevailed, how Rome had been preached and
written upon in the north. The city was represented to people
as a vast abyss of sin; the men as villains, from the lowest
up to the cardinals; the women as courtesans; the business of
all as deceit, theft, and murder; and the robbing and deluding
of men that had for centuries been emanating from Rome, was
regarded as the universal disease from which the world was
languishing. Thither for centuries the gold of Germany had
flowed; there had emperors been humbled or poisoned; from Rome
every evil had sprung. And thus, while satiating themselves
with rapine and murder, they believed a good work was being
done for the welfare of Christendom, and for the avenge of
Germany. Never, however—this we know—does the nature of man
exhibit itself more beast-like, than when it becomes furious
for the sake of ideas of the highest character. Before the
castle of St. Angelo, which, carefully fortified with walls
and fosses, alone afforded resistance, the German soldiers
proclaimed Martin Luther as pope. Luther's name was at that
time a war-cry against pope and priestcraft. The rude
multitude surmised not what Luther desired when he attacked
the papacy. In front of St. Peter's church, they represented
an imitation of the papal election with the sacred garments
and utensils. They compelled one priest to give extreme
unction to a dying mule. One protested that he would not rest
until he had consumed a piece of the pope's flesh. It is true,
Italians for the most part relate this, but the German reports
themselves do not deny the excessive barbarity which was
permitted. Ten millions of precious metal was carried away.
How much blood did this money involve, and what was done to
those from whom it was taken? Fewer were put to death than
were plundered, says one of the records, but what does that
imply? It is true, the Germans often quarrelled with the
Spaniards, because the horrors which they saw them practise
were too terrible for them. Otherwise the sparing of human
life was less an act of clemency than of covetousness.
Prisoners of war were at that time regarded as slaves; they
were carried away as personal property, or a ransom was
extorted. … This system was carried to a great pitch in
Rome. The possessors of palaces were obliged to purchase their
ransom, the Spanish cardinals as well as the Italian—no
difference was made. Thus at least escape was possible. …
And as the people were treated, so were the things. Upon the
inlaid marble floor of the Vatican, where the Prince of Orange
took up his abode—the command of the army devolving upon him
after Bourbon's death—the soldiers lighted their fire. The
splendid stained glass windows, executed by William of
Marseilles, were broken for the sake of the lead. Raphael's
tapestries were pronounced excellent booty; in the paintings
on the walls the eyes were put out; and valuable documents
were given as straw to the horses which stood in the Sistine
Chapel. The statues in the streets were thrown down; the
images of the Mother of God in the churches were broken to
pieces. For six months the city thus remained in the power of
the soldiery, who had lost all discipline, Pestilence and
famine appeared. Rome had more than 90,000 inhabitants under
Leo X.; when Clement VII. returned a year after the conquest,
scarcely a third of that number then existed—poor, famished
people, who had remained behind, because they knew not whither
to turn. All this lay on the conscience of the man who now for
months had been condemned to look down upon this misery from
the castle of St. Angelo, in which the Spaniards held him
completely blockaded, and where pestilence and want of
provisions appeared just as much as down below in Rome. At
last, after waiting day after day, he saw Urbino's army
approaching from afar: their watch-fires were to be perceived;
and every moment he expected that the duke would attack and
deliver the city. But he moved not. It is thought he intended
now to avenge the rapine which the Medici under Leo. X. had
carried on against him. … After having rested for some time
in sight of the city, in which the imperialists had opened
their intrenchments round the castle of St. Angelo for a
regular siege, he withdrew back again to the north, and left
the pope to his fate."

_H. Grimm,
Life of Michael Angelo,
chapter 10, section 3 (volume 2)._

ALSO IN:
_Benvenuto Cellini,
Life,
translated by J. A. Symonds,
book 1, sections 34-38 (volume 1)._

_Benvenuto Cellini,
Life,
translated by T. Roscoe,
chapter 7._

_J. S. Brewer,
The Reign of Henry VIII.,
chapter 25 (volume 2)._

ITALY: A. D. 1527-1529.
Siege and captivity of the Pope.
New league against the Emperor.
French invasion and disastrous siege of Naples.
Genoese independence recovered.
Treaties of Barcelona and Cambrai.
Francis renounces all pretensions beyond the Alps.
Charles V. supreme.

Shut up in Castle St. Angelo, the Pope, Clement VII.,
"deprived of every resource, and reduced to such extremity of
famine as to feed on asses' flesh, was obliged to capitulate
on such conditions as the conquerors were pleased to
prescribe. He agreed to pay 400,000 ducats to the army; to
surrender to the emperor all the places of strength belonging
to the Church; and, besides giving hostages, to remain a
prisoner himself until the chief articles were performed. …
The account of this extraordinary and unexpected event was no
less surprising than agreeable to the emperor.
{1841}
But in order to conceal his joy from his subjects, who were
filled with horror at the success and crimes of their
countrymen, and to lessen the indignation of the rest of
Europe, he declared that Rome had been assaulted without any
order from him. He wrote to all the princes with whom he was
in alliance, disclaiming his having had any knowledge of
Bourbon's intention. He put himself and court into mourning;
commanded the rejoicings which had been ordered for the birth
of his son Philip to be stopped; and, employing an artifice no
less hypocritical than gross, he appointed prayers and
processions throughout all Spain for the recovery of the
pope's liberty, which, by an order to his generals, he could
have immediately granted him. … Francis and Henry [of France
and England], alarmed at the progress of the imperial arms in
Italy, had, even before the taking of Rome, entered into a
closer alliance; and, in order to give some check to the
emperor's ambition, had agreed to make a vigorous diversion in
the Low Countries. The force of every motive which had
influenced them at that time was now increased; and to these
was added the desire of rescuing the pope out of the emperor's
hands, a measure no less politic than it appeared to be pious.
This, however, rendered it necessary to abandon their hostile
intentions against the Low Countries, and to make Italy the
seat of war. … Besides all … public considerations, Henry
was influenced by one of a more private nature: having begun,
about this time, to form his great scheme of divorcing
Catharine of Aragon, towards the execution of which he knew
that the sanction of papal authority would be necessary, he
was desirous to acquire as much merit as possible with
Clement, by appearing to be the chief instrument of his
deliverance. … Henry … entered so eagerly into this new
alliance, that, in order to give Francis the strongest proof
of his friendship and respect, he formally renounced the
ancient claim of the English monarchs to the crown of France,
which had long been the pride and ruin of the nation; as a
full compensation for which he accepted a pension of 50,000
crowns, to be paid annually to himself and his successors. The
pope, being unable to fulfil the conditions of his
capitulation, still remained a prisoner. … The Florentines
no sooner heard of what had happened at Rome, than they ran to
arms … and, declaring themselves a free state, reëstablished
their ancient popular government.

See FLORENCE: A. D.1502-1569.