CHAPTER XXIV.
Nothing can be more evanescent than the impressions of reason on asmall mind. That of Charles VIII. might almost be compared to alooking-glass; it reflected only that which was before it; and, erethe conditions of accommodation between himself and the pope werecompletely arranged, he had forgotten his desire to march onspeedily--he had forgotten the extreme peril of not doing so.
A whole month passed in f?tes and ceremonies, and found the Frenchmonarch and his army still in Rome; but there were persons in his campand court both wiser and more impatient, and at length he was inducedto name the day of departure.
Again he commenced his advance, with troops refreshed, and all thepageantry of war renewed and brightened. The order of march was madeas it had been before; a few small bodies of cavalry in advance, thenthe Swiss and Gascon foot, then the great body of men-at-arms, andlastly, at some distance in the rear, the household of the king,escorted by his own guard, and followed by an immense train ofcourtiers, servants, and attendants.
In this part of the cavalcade appeared two groups of peculiarinterest. Mounted on a splendid charger, and attired more like awarrior than a churchman, came the Cardinal Borgia, the hostage forthe pope. An enormous train followed him, more in number, indeed, thanthat which attended upon the king. Led horses, with their grooms,mules and pack-saddles, litters, with curtains of crimson and gold, inwhich, it was whispered, were some of the flowers of the cardinal'sseraglio, an immense quantity of baggage drawn slowly on in ox-carts,and a number of men on foot, tolerably well armed for the attendantsof a cardinal, followed him in the march, and made his part of thecavalcade as brilliant as any other.
Still farther in the rear appeared a somewhat lugubrious troop, at thehead of which was borne a square black banner on a gilded pole. Thencame litter after litter with black curtains, followed by a small bodyof mounted men, whose turbans and cimiters betokened the race fromwhich they sprang.
In the front litter, the curtains of which were in part drawn back,might be seen a man about the middle age, somewhat large and heavy infigure, but with a mild, intelligent face. This was the unfortunateZizim, the brother of Bajazet, who followed the King of France ratheras a guest than a prisoner, but who well knew that he was no more themaster of his own actions than if there had been manacles on hiswrists. Yet there was hope in his heart--hope which had not tenantedit for many a long month. He knew, indeed, that he was to besubservient to the will of a powerful monarch, but he knew also that,in the coming struggle, when, supported by French troops, he was toshake the throne of his brother, there was a chance, and a good one,of recovering what he rightly or wrongly considered as his own. Hisfamily followed in the litters behind him; and a few faithful servantsand attendants who shared his fortunes in good and evil, made up therest of the band.
With drums, and trumpets, and banners flying, and nodding plumes, andall-the pomp and pageantry of war, the French army marched forward,while the first breath of spring was felt in the air, and a slightfilmy cloud here and there in the sky promised, like the hopes ofyouth, an early enjoyment of summer long before, in reality, itapproached. Mirth and laughter reigned in the ranks of the Frencharmy, and the expedition seemed more like an excursion of pleasurethan a great military enterprise.
The day's march was somewhat long, although it did not commence veryearly; but Charles had suddenly re-awakened to the necessity ofreaching Naples speedily; and even the sluggish Duke of Montpensier,who rarely rose before noon-day, was eager to get forward, and hadbeen in the saddle by nine.
At length the halt was ordered; lodgings were found in a small villagefor the king and the principal personages who attended him; tents werepitched in the fields and groves around; and, after one of thosescenes of indescribable bustle and confusion which always attend thefirst night's encampment of an army, the gay French soldiery gavethemselves up to revelry and merriment.
Couriers came from Rome during the evening, bringing delicious winesand delicacies as presents from Pope Alexander to the king; and,although it was somewhat dangerous to eat of his meat or drink of hiscup, let it be said, none of the French court was injured that day bythe bounties he provided.
On the following morning the march recommenced in the same order; theencampment again took place at night; the night passed away; but,while the army was getting under arms in the early morning, it wasfound that two of the king's honoured guests were gone.
Cardinal Borgia, the pope's hostage, was nowhere to be found; littersand rosy curtains, attendants on foot and on horseback, pack-horsesand mules, had all disappeared, and it became very evident that C?sar,not liking the position he occupied in the French army, had quittedit, and taken himself back to Rome.
Zizim also, the unfortunate Ottoman prince, had departed, but on alonger journey, and to a more distant land. He had been taken illduring the night; symptoms of poison had shown themselves at an earlyhour; the disease, whatever it was, had a rapid course, and ere daydawned the eyes of Zizim were closed in the night of death. It wasshown that messengers from his friend Pope Alexander had visited himduring the preceding evening, and a thousand vague stories ran throughthe camp not at all complimentary to the moral character of the pope;but Charles VIII., whatever might be his suspicions, sent back thefamily and the corpse of the Turkish prince to Alexander. The latter,indeed, was a valuable present, perhaps more so than any corpse everwas before or since; for, on delivering it to the agents of Bajazet,the messengers of the pope received three hundred thousand ducats ofgold, as compensation for some act faithfully performed.
These events created much surprise and some uneasiness in the court ofCharles VIII. The graces, the exceeding beauty, and the winningeloquence of C?sar Borgia had dissipated all the doubts and suspicionswhich, even at that early period of his life, hung about him. At adistance, men abhorred and condemned him; once within the magic circleof his influence, fear and hatred passed away, and friendship andconfidence succeeded in even the most cautious. But now, when he fledfrom the post he had voluntarily undertaken, when he set at nought theengagements which he had been the first to propose, suspicion wasre-awakened; couriers were sent off in haste to the towns whichAlexander had surrendered as securities to the king, and the officerscommanding the garrisons were strictly enjoined to keep guardcarefully against a surprise.
Before that day's march was ended, new causes of apprehension wereadded to those which already existed. Intelligence was received thatAlphonzo, King of Naples, who had merited and won the hatred of hispeople, had abdicated in favour of his son Ferdinand, a princeuniversally beloved and respected. Gallant in the field, courteous andkind in his personal demeanour, constant and firm, as well as gentle,he boasted at an after period that he had never inflicted an injuryupon any of his own or his father's subjects, and there were nonefound to contradict.
Such a prince might be naturally expected to rally round him all thatwas noble, generous, and gallant among the Neapolitan people; andwhatever Charles himself might think, there were many in his councilwho knew well how difficult a task it is to conquer a united andpatriotic nation.
They heard that he had assumed the crown amidst shouts and rejoicings,that voluntary levies were swelling his forces, and that he himselfhad advanced to the frontier of his kingdom, and had taken up acommanding position ready to do battle in defence of his throne.
The march of the King of France became much more circumspect; partieswere thrown out in different directions to obtain intelligence, and nolonger with gay and joyous revelry, but with compact array and rigiddiscipline, the host moved forward, and passed the Neapolitanfrontier.
Where was the army which was to oppose its progress? Where thenumerous and zealous friends of the young sovereign? Nowhere.
Some turbulent proceedings in the city of Naples, instigated, it issupposed, by French emissaries, recalled Ferdinand for a few days tohis capital. When he returned to the army, he found it nearlydisbanded, terror in the hearts of those who remained, and perhapstreachery also.
There was no possibility of keeping the troops together; and withdisappointment, but not with despair, Ferdinand returned to Naples, inthe hope of defending the city against the invader. Vain was the hope;misfortune dogged him still.
The volatile people, who had shouted so loudly as his succession,received him in dull and ominous silence; and he soon learned that hecould neither depend upon their support nor upon the fidelity of themercenary troops with which his father had garrisoned the two greatcitadels. Day by day from the various fortresses of the kingdom camewarnings of what might be expected of the people of Naples.
Terrified at the approach of the French, the inhabitants of thevarious cities on Charles's line of march clamoured for immediatesurrender even before they were summoned; and the governors andgarrisons only delayed that surrender till they could make a bargainwith the counsellors of the French monarch, not for safety andimmunity, but for payment and reward.
It was an observation of the cunning Breconnel, that golden bulletsshattered down more walls in the kingdom of Naples than any of thebombards of the army; but, as the finances of Charles were not veryflourishing, he was obliged to be lavish of promises when he could notpay in money.
But I must follow a little farther the history of the gallantprince whom the French monarch came to dethrone. Left almost alone inhis palace, Ferdinand saw nothing around him but desertion andtreachery--heard of nothing but plots against his person or his power.Calmly, deliberately he took his resolution. He selected severalvessels in the harbour, manned them with persons on whom he couldrely, and then addressed the people of Naples, telling them, in aspeech which may be apocryphal, but which is full of calm dignity andnoble courage, that it was his intention to leave the capital.
He told them that he was ready to fight with them and for them, butthat the cowardice of the soldiery and treachery of their leadersdeprived him of the hope of success. He advised them, as soon as hewas gone, to treat with France; he set them free from their allegianceto him; he exhorted them to live peacefully under their new lord. Buthe told them that he would ever be near them, and promised that,should the yoke of the stranger ever become insupportable, they wouldfind him by their side, ever ready to shed his last drop of blood fortheir deliverance.
"In my exile," he said, "it will be some consolation to me if youallow that since my birth I have never injured any one of you, that Ihave done my best to render you happy, and that it is not by my ownfault that I have lost a throne."
Some of the people wept, we are told, but the rest stole away to thepalace, and at once commenced the work of pillage. Ferdinand drovethem out at the point of the sword; but, finding that the garrison ofCastel Nuovo had already conspired to seize his person and sell him tothe French, he hurried on board his ships with a few friends, set fireto the rest of the vessels in the harbour, and sailed for the Islandof Ischia.
There a new trait of human baseness awaited him. The governor of theisland and of an old castle, built, as is said, by the Saracens, whichthen stood on the island, attempted to parley with the prince to whomhe owed all, refusing to receive him with more than one attendant.Ferdinand sprang ashore alone, seized the villain by the throat, and,casting him under his feet, trampled upon him in presence of his ownforces and the garrison. The castle was soon in his possession, but heremained not long in Ischia.
On the 21st February, 1495, the French monarch approached the city ofNaples. The gates were thrown open, the streets hung with tapestry,the windows crowded with admiring groups, and Charles entered, as ifin triumph, with an imperial crown upon his head, a sceptre in onehand, and a globe in the other, while heralds proclaimed him emperor,though it does not appear that they said of what empire.
The mercurial population went half wild with excitement, and shouted,and danced, and screamed before his horse's feet; and had Charles beenSt. Januarius himself, Naples could not have roared with more lustyjoy.
Yet the two castles still held out, the one merely to make conditionsfor the benefit of the garrison, the other from nobler motives. TheCastel Nuovo was bought and sold without a shot being fired; but inthe Ovo was Frederick, the uncle of the dethroned king, and a faithfulgarrison. The French artillery advanced and opened fire; the guns ofthe castle replied boldly. Some damage was done in the city, and itbecame evident that many of the finest buildings might be destroyed.
Negotiation was then commenced, and to Frederick's high honour be itsaid, that he sought no terms for himself, although he knew that thecastle could not hold out many days. It was his nephew alone that hethought of; and he strove hard to persuade the King of France tobestow upon Ferdinand the duchy of Calabria on condition of hisabdicating the throne: but the council of the king would not consentto leave so popular a competitor in Italy. They offered largepossessions in France, and drew out the negotiations to such a length,that Frederick, finding the Ovo could hold out no longer, withdrewwith a small body of men, and, joining his nephew, took refuge withhim in Ischia.
The city of Naples was now completely in the power of the French, butthe kingdom was not so. Scattered over its various provinces were manystrong places. Brindisi, Otranto, Regio, Galliopoli, held out for thehouse of Arragon, and the governors, too honest or too wise, would notsuffer themselves to be corrupted. The French army, holding alreadyseveral fortresses in Naples and the States of the Church, could notafford men enough either to form the regular siege of any of thoseplaces, or to garrison them if taken; and Charles and his court gavethemselves up to all those enjoyments for which the city of the Sirenhas always been renowned.
Leonora D'Orco: A Historical Romance Page 24